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Title: The Worlds Greatest Books, Volume XIII.
       Religion and Philosophy

Author: Various

Release Date: October 7, 2004 [EBook #13620]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

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THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS

JOINT EDITORS

ARTHUR MEE

J.A. HAMMERTON



VOL. XIII RELIGION PHILOSOPHY


Copyright, MCMX MCKINLAY, STOKE & MACKEKZU

       *       *       *       *       *




TABLE OF CONTENTS


    RELIGION

    APOCRYPHA

    AUGUSTINE, ST.
      City of God

    BAXTER, RICHARD
      Saints' Everlasting Rest

    BOOK OF THE DEAD

    BRAHMANISM, BOOKS OF

    BROWNE, SIR THOMAS
      Religio Medici

    CALVIN, JOHN
      Institution of the Christian Religion

    COLERIDGE, S.T.
      Aids to Reflection

    CONFUCIANISM

    FENELON
      Existence of God

    GALILEO GALILEI
      Authority of Scripture

    HEGEL, G.W.F.
      Philosophy of Religion

    HINDUISM, BOOKS OF

    KEMPIS, THOMAS A
      Imitation of Christ

    KORAN

    NEWMAN, CARDINAL
      Apologia pro Vita Sua

    PAINE, THOMAS
      Age of Reason

    PASCAL, BLAISE
      Letters to a Provincial

    PENN, WILLIAM
      Some Fruits of Solitude

    RENAN, ERNEST
      Life of Jesus

    SWEDENBORG, EMANUEL
      Heaven and Hell

    TALMUD

    ZOROASTRIANISM


    PHILOSOPHY


    ARISTOTLE
      Ethics

    AURELIUS, MARCUS
      Discourses with Himself

    BACON, FRANCIS
      Advancement of Learning

    BERKELEY, GEORGE
      Principles of Human Knowledge

    DESCARTES
      Discourse on Method

    EMERSON, RALPH WALDO
      Nature

    EPICTETUS
      Discourses and Encheiridion


A COMPLETE INDEX OF THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS WILL BE FOUND AT THE END
OF VOLUME XX.

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RELIGION


THE APOCRYPHA


     Apocrypha is a Greek word, signifying "secret" or "hidden,"
     but in the sixteenth century it came to be applied to a list
     of books contained in the Septuagint, or Greek translation of
     the Old Testament, but not in the Palestinian, or Hebrew
     Canon. Hence, by theological or bibliographic purists, these
     books were not regarded as genuine Scripture. That view was
     adopted by the early Greek Church, though the Western Church
     was divided in opinion. They appeared as a separate section in
     Coverdale's English Bible in 1538, and in Luther's German
     Bible in 1537. The Council of Trent in 1546 admitted them as
     canonical, except the First and Second Esdras and the Prayer
     of Manasses--a view rejected after the Reformation by
     Protestants, who recognised only the Palestinian Record as
     canonical. The Westminster Confession declared that they were
     only to be made use of as "human writings," and the Sixth
     Article of the Church of England states that they are "to be
     read for example of life and instruction of manners, but not
     to establish doctrine." As the result of a violent controversy
     in Scotland and America between 1825 and 1827, the Apocrypha
     was deleted from the copies of the Holy Scriptures issued by
     the British and Foreign Bible Society. The controversy was
     revived in 1862 when a quotation was engraved on the Prince
     Consort's Memorial in Kensington Gardens from the Wisdom of
     Solomon: "He, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a
     long time. For his soul pleased the Lord: Therefore hasted He
     to take him away from among the wicked." All the books bear
     evidence of having been written long after the date to which
     they are ascribed.


FIRST ESDRAS


And Josias held the feast of the Passover in Jerusalem unto his Lord,
the 14th day of the first month of the 18th year of his reign, and
ordered the Levites, the holy ministers of Israel, to hallow themselves
unto the Lord, and set the Holy Ark of the Lord in the house that King
Solomon had built. And there were offered in sacrifices to the Lord on
the altar 37,600 lambs and kids, and 4,300 calves. And they roasted the
Passover with fire: as for the sacrifices, they sod them in brass pots
and pans with a good savour, and set them before all the people. And
such a Passover was not kept in Israel since the time of the Prophet
Samuel. And the works of Josias were upright before his Lord with an
heart full of godliness.

Now, after all these acts of Josias, it came to pass that Pharaoh, the
King of Egypt, came to raise war at Carchamis upon Euphrates; and
Josias, not regarding the words of the Prophet Jeremy, spoken by the
mouth of the Lord, went out against him and joined battle with him in
the plain of Magiddo. Then said the king unto his servants: Carry me
away out of the battle; for I am very weak. And being brought back to
Jerusalem he died and was buried in his father's sepulchre. And in all
Jewry the chief men, with the women, yea Jeremy the prophet, made
lamentation for him unto this day.

And the people took Joachaz, the son of Josias, and made him king; but
the King of Egypt deposed him, and made Joacim, his brother, King of
Judea and Jerusalem, who did evil before the Lord. Wherefore, against
him, Nabuchodonosor, King of Babylon, came up and bound him with a chain
of brass, and carried him into Babylon. Nabuchodonosor also took of the
holy vessels of the Lord and carried them away, and set them in his own
temple at Babylon, and made Zedechias king. Zedechias reigned eleven
years, but did evil also in the sight of the Lord.

The governors of the people and of the priests did likewise many things
against the Lord, and defiled the Temple of the Lord, who, being wrath
with his people for their great ungodliness, commanded the Kings of the
Chaldees to come up against them. This they did, and slew and spared
neither young man nor maid, old man nor child, among them. And they took
all the holy vessels of the Lord, both great and small, with the vessels
of the Ark of God and the king's treasures, and carried them away into
Babylon. As for the House of the Lord, they burnt it, and broke down the
walls of Jerusalem and set fire upon her towers. And the people that
were not slain with the sword were carried unto Babylon, who became
servants to Nabuchodonosor, till the Persians reigned, to fulfil the
word of the Lord spoken by the mouth of Jeremy.

In the first year of Cyrus, King of the Persians, the Lord raised up his
spirit, and he made proclamation through all his kingdom, saying: The
Lord of Israel, the most high Lord, hath made me king of the whole
world, and commanded me to build him an house at Jerusalem in Jewry. If
there be any of you that are of his people, let the Lord, even his Lord,
be with him; let him go up to Jerusalem and build the house of the Lord
of Israel.

Then the chief of the families of Judea and of the tribe of Benjamin,
the priests also, and the Levites moved up to Jerusalem to build an
house for the Lord there. And they were helped in all things with silver
and gold, with horses and cattle, and with very many free gifts. King
Cyrus also brought forth the holy vessels which Nabuchodonosor had
carried away from Jerusalem and had set up in his temple of idols. The
vessels of gold and of silver which were brought back by Sanabassar,
together with them of the captivity from Babylon to Jerusalem, were, in
number, five thousand four hundred three score and nine.

But in the time of Artaxerxes, the building of the Temple ceased. Now,
when Darius reigned, he made a great feast unto all the governors and
captains that were under him from India unto Ethiopia, of an hundred and
twenty-seven provinces. And when they had eaten and drunken, three young
men that were of the guard that kept the king's body strove to excel
each other in wise speeches. Every one wrote his sentence and referred
the writings to the judgment of the king. The first declareth the
strength of wine; the second declareth the power of a king; the third
the force of women and of truth. The third, who was Zorobabel, was
judged to be wisest; and all the people then shouted: Great is Truth,
and mighty above all things.

Then said the king unto him: Ask what thou wilt, and we will give it to
thee, because thou art found wisest. Then Zorobabel said unto the king:
Remember thy vow which thou hast vowed to build Jerusalem in the day
when thou camest into thy kingdom, and to build up the Temple, which the
Edomites burned when Judea was made desolate by the Chaldees.

Then Darius the king stood up and kissed him, and wrote letters for him
unto all the treasurers and governors that they should safely convey on
their way both him and all those that went with him to build Jerusalem.
He also wrote letters unto the lieutenants in Celosyria, Phenice, and
Libanus, that they should bring cedar wood from Libanus to Jerusalem;
and that they should build the city. Then the families and tribes with
their men-servants and maid-servants and singing men and women, escorted
by a thousand horsemen which Darius sent with them, were brought back to
Jerusalem.

On the first day of the second month, in the second year after they were
come back to Jerusalem, the foundation of the House of God was laid; and
the Temple was finished in the three and twentieth day of the month of
Adar, in the sixth year of Darius, and dedicated with a great feast and
sacrifices.

After these things, when Artaxerxes, the King of the Persians, reigned,
came Esdras of the family of Aaron, the chief priest, from Babylon, and
with him certain priests, Levites, holy singers and ministers of the
Temple unto Jerusalem. He brought commission from the king to look into
the affairs of Judea and Jerusalem, agreeably to that which is in the
Law of the Lord, and gifts of vessels of gold and silver for the use of
the Temple of the Lord.

Then Esdras made proclamation in all Jewry and Jerusalem to all them who
were of the captivity, that they should be gathered together at
Jerusalem. Three days after all the multitude gathered in the broad
court of the Temple, and they gave their hands to put away their heathen
wives and children, and to offer rams to make reconcilement for the
errors they had committed. And Esdras stood up upon a pulpit of wood,
which was made for that purpose, and opened the Law of Moses to the
people.

So Esdras blessed the Lord God, most High, the God of Hosts, Almighty.
And all the people answered: Amen; and, lifting up their hands, they
fell to the ground and worshipped the Lord, saying: This day is holy
unto the Lord; for they all wept when they heard the Law. So the Levites
published all things to the people, saying: This day is holy to the
Lord; be not sorrowful. Then went they their way every one to eat and
drink, and make merry and to give to them that have nothing, and to make
great cheer.


SECOND ESDRAS


The word of the Lord came unto the prophet Esdras, saying: Go thy way,
and show my people their sinful deeds which they have done against me,
for they have forgotten me, and have offered unto strange gods. I
gathered you together, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings:
But now I will cast you out from my face. Then Esdras willed to comfort
Israel, but they refused, and despised the commandments of the Lord;
therefore he announced that the heathen were called to the heavenly
kingdom. After that, Esdras saw upon the Mount Sion a great people who
praised the Lord with songs; and the angel said unto him: These be they
that have put off the mortal clothing, and put on the immortal, and have
confessed the name of God. Now are they crowned, and receive palms in
their hands from the Son of God in their midst.

In the thirtieth year after the ruin of the city, Esdras was in Babylon
and troubled because of the desolation of Sion. He acknowledged to God
the sins of the people, yet complained that the heathen who were lords
over them were more wicked than they. Uriel, the angel, then said that
when Adam transgressed God's statutes the way was made narrow, and the
days few and evil; but, behold, the time shall come when my son Jesus
shall be revealed and shall die, and all men that have life. And after
seven days of silence, the earth shall restore those that are asleep,
and the most High shall appear upon the seat of judgment; and misery
shall pass away but judgment shall remain; truth shall stand; and faith
wax strong.

Then Esdras said: I know the most High is called merciful, and he
pardoneth; for if he did not so that they which have committed
iniquities might be eased of them, the ten thousandth part of men should
not remain living; there should be very few left, peradventure, in an
innumerable multitude. And the angel answered: There be many created,
but few shall be saved. Every one that shall be saved shall be able to
escape by his works and by faith, and then they shall be shown great
wonders. And it came to pass that a voice out of a bush called Esdras,
which prophesied that God would take vengeance upon Egypt, Syria,
Babylon, and Asia; that the servants of the Lord must look for troubles,
and not hide their sins but depart from evil, and they would be
delivered because God is their guide.


TOBIT


This is the Book of Tobit, of the tribe of Nephthali, who in the time of
Enemessar, King of the Assyrians, was led captive to Nineve. Tobit in
captivity still remembered God with all his heart, and was deprived of
his goods under King Sennacherib for privily burying fellow-captives who
had been killed. Then Tobit, who became blind, remembered that he had in
the days of his prosperity committed to Gabael in Rages of Media the sum
of ten talents; and he called his son Tobias to go forth and seek
Gabael, giving him handwriting. Tobias sought a guide and found Raphael,
who was an angel though Tobias knew it not, and who said he knew and had
lodged with Gabael. So they went forth both.

When Tobias and Raphael came to the River Tigris, a fish leaped out of
the water and would have devoured him, but the young man laid hold of
it, and drew it to land. The Angel bade Tobias open the fish, and take
the heart and the liver and the gall, and put them up safely. The young
man said to the Angel: To what use are these? And the Angel said:
Touching the heart and the liver, if an evil spirit trouble any, we must
make a smoke thereof, and the party shall be no more vexed. As for the
gall: it is good to anoint a man that a whiteness in his eyes shall be
healed.

When they came near to Rages, the Angel said: To-day we shall lodge with
Raguel, who is thy cousin and hath an only daughter named Sara. The maid
is fair and wise, and I will speak that she may be given thee as a wife.
Then the young man answered the Angel, that he had heard that this maid
had been given to seven men who all died in the marriage chamber, and he
feared lest he should also die. But the Angel said: Fear not, for she is
appointed unto thee from the beginning.

Now they came to the house of Raguel, and Sara met them and brought them
therein. Raguel and Edna his wife recognised Tobias as a kinsman, and
kissed and blessed him. Tobias and Raphael were entertained cheerfully;
and after Raphael had communicated with Raguel, Edna, his wife, was
called and an instrument of covenants of marriage between Sara and
Tobias were written and sealed. And a chamber was prepared for them by
Edna, who blessed Sara and asked the Lord of Heaven and Earth to give
her joy. And when they had all supped, Tobias was brought in unto Sara.
And, as he went he remembered the words of Raphael, and put the heart
and liver of the fish upon the ashes of the perfume, and made a smoke
therewith. When the evil spirit had smelled the smoke he fled into the
utmost parts of Egypt, where an angel bound him. Then Tobias and Sara
arose and prayed that God would have pity upon them, and bless them, and
mercifully ordain that they might become aged together. So they slept
both that night.

Raguel praised God because the Lord had had mercy upon two that were the
only begotten children of their fathers, and prayed that they might
finish their life in health and joy. Raphael then went to Rages to
Gabael for the money, and the two returned to Raguel's house with the
bags sealed up.

Now Tobit and his wife longed for their son, and Tobias said to Raguel:
Let me go, for my father and mother look no more to see me. Then Raguel
gave him Sara, his wife, and half his goods, servants, cattle and money.
And he and Edna blessed them and sent them away.

After a prosperous journey, they drew near unto Nineve. Then Raphael
told Tobias to make haste before his wife to prepare the house, and to
take in his hand the gall of the fish. Now Anna sat looking about toward
the way for her son, and when she espied him coming, she said to his
father: Behold, thy son cometh and the man that went with him. And Anna
ran forth, and fell upon the neck of her son and said: From henceforth I
am content to die. Tobias met his father at the door, and strake of the
gall on his father's eyes, saying: Be of good hope, my father. And Tobit
recovered his sight. When he saw his son, he fell upon his neck and
wept, and blessed God. Then Tobit went out to meet his daughter-in-law
at the gate of Nineve, and welcomed and blessed her; and there was joy
among all his brethren which were at Nineve.

Tobit offered to Raphael half of all that had been brought from Rages;
but Raphael called him and Tobias apart and exhorted them to praise and
magnify the Lord for all the things which he had done unto them; and
told them that he, Raphael, was one of the seven holy angels which
present the prayers of the saints, and which go in and out before the
glory of the Holy One. Then they were both troubled and fell upon their
faces; but he said: Fear not, for it shall go well with you. I go up to
him that sent me; but write all the things which were done in a book.
And when they arose they saw him no more.

Tobit wrote a prayer of rejoicing, saying: In the land of my captivity
do I praise thee, O Lord, and declare thy might and majesty to a sinful
nation. For Jerusalem shall be built up, her walls and towers and
battlements restored. And all her streets shall say: Alleluia.

And when he was very aged, Tobit called his son and the six sons of his
son, and bade them go into Media, for he was ready to depart out of this
life, and he surely believed that which Jonas the prophet spake of
Nineve, that it should be overthrown. When he had said these things he
gave up the ghost. Tobias departed with his wife to Media, and died
there; but before he died he heard of the destruction of Nineve, which
was taken by Nabuchodonosor.


JUDITH


In the days of Arphaxad, which reigned over the Medes in Ecbatane, he
fortified Ecbatane with great stone walls, and towers and gates, for the
going forth of his mighty armies. Nabuchodonosor, who reigned in Nineve,
made war with King Arphaxad, and sent ambassadors to Cilicia, Damascus
and Syria, and the land of Moab and Ammon and Judea and all Egypt asking
aid; but the inhabitants thereof made light of the commandment, and sent
away his ambassadors with disgrace. Therefore, Nabuchodonosor was very
angry, and sware by his throne that he would be avenged upon all the
inhabitants of these countries, and would slay them with the sword.
Nabuchodonosor, in the seventeenth year of his reign, marched in battle
array against Arphaxad and overthrew his power and, all his horsemen and
chariots, and took his cities even unto Ecbatane, and spoiled the
streets thereof, and turned the beauty of the city into shame. He also
took Arphaxad in the mountains of Ragau and smote him. So he returned to
Nineve with all his company of sundry nations and feasted. In the
eighteenth year, Nabuchodonosor called the chief captain of his army,
Holofernes, and commanded him to take one hundred and twenty thousand
footmen and twelve thousand horsemen and go against all the west country
because they had disobeyed his commandment. He charged also Holofernes
to spare none that would not yield, and put them to the slaughter, and
spoil them. And the army went forth with a great number of allies like
locusts into Cilicia, and destroyed Phud and Lud, and all the children
of Rasses and Ishmael. Then the army went over Euphrates and went
through Mesopotamia, and destroyed all the high cities on the river
Arbonai to the sea, and then to Japheth over against Arabia, and Media
and Damascus, and burned up their tabernacles, destroyed their flocks
and herds, utterly wasted their countries, and smote all their young men
with the edge of the sword. Then fear fell upon the inhabitants of Tyrus
and Sidon, on the sea coasts, who sent ambassadors unto Holofernes, and
made submission. He received them, yet he cast down their frontiers, cut
down their groves, destroyed all the gods of the land, and decreed that
all the nations should worship Nabuchodonosor only, and call upon him as
God.

Now, the children of Israel that dwelt in Judea, who were newly returned
from captivity, were exceedingly afraid for Jerusalem and for the Temple
of the Lord their God. Therefore, they possessed themselves of all tops
of the high mountains, and fortified the villages, and laid up victuals
for the provision of war. And Joacim and all the priests ministered unto
the Lord in the Temple, and offered sacrifices and prayed that he would
not give the children of Israel for a prey, their wives for a spoil, the
cities of their inheritance to destruction, and the sanctuary to
profanation.

Holofernes was very angry when he heard this. And Achior, captain of the
sons of Ammon, told Holofernes what the Jews were, their history, and
what their God had done for them; and advised Holofernes not to meddle
with them. There was then tumult in the council of the Assyrian host,
and Holofernes despised the God of the people of Israel, and sent Achior
to the children of Israel that were in Bethulia, in the hill country.
Then Holofernes with all his army besieged Bethulia, and took possession
of the fountains of water, so that the inhabitants fainted for thirst,
and there was no longer any strength in them. They murmured against the
governors, and called upon them to deliver the city to Holofernes and
his army. Ozias, the chief of the city, said: Brethren, be of good
courage; let us yet endure five days, in which space the Lord our God
may turn his mercy towards us; for he will not forsake us utterly.

Now Judith heard thereof. She was a widow and was of a goodly
countenance and very beautiful to behold, and she feared God greatly.
Judith sent for the ancients of the city, and blamed them for provoking
the Lord to anger by their lack of trust, and she promised that she
would do a thing within the days before the city was to be delivered to
their enemies which should go throughout all generations to the children
of the nation. Then Judith went to the House of the Lord and fell upon
her face and called upon the Lord who breakest the battles to bless her
purpose. She went thereafter to her house, put off the garments of
widowhood and of sackcloth, and bathed, and anointed herself with
precious ointment, and put on the garments of gladness, with bracelets
and chains and rings and ornaments to lure the eyes of all the men that
should see her. Then she went forth with her maid out of the city of
Bethulia into the camp of the Assyrians, and was taken by the guard to
the tent of Holofernes, who marvelled at her beauty. Holofernes asked
Judith the cause of her coming, and she declared that if he would follow
her words, he and his army would be led by her through the midst of
Judea unto Jerusalem wherein he would set op his throne.

Holofernes and all his servants were pleased, and said there was not
such a woman in all the earth for beauty of face and wisdom of words.
Judith would not eat of the meats and wine which Holofernes offered her,
but partook only of the provisions which her maid had brought with her
in a bag. Then she was brought into a tent and abode in the camp three
days, going out every night into the valley of Bethulia to pray. In the
fourth day Holofernes made a feast, and said to Bagoas, the eunuch, to
go and persuade the Hebrew woman to come and eat and drink with him and
his officers. Judith arose and decked herself, and went in and sat on
the ground on soft skins over against Holofernes, whose heart was
ravished with her, and his mind moved, and he desired greatly her
company.

Now Judith took and ate and drank what her maid had prepared, and
Holofernes was greatly delighted with her, and drank much more wine than
he had drunk at any time in one day since he was born. Judith, when the
evening was come, was left alone with Holofernes, and the servants were
dismissed. Then she came to the pillar of the bed, which was at
Holofernes's head, took down his fauchion, seized hold of the hair of
his head, and said: Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, this day. And
she smote twice upon his neck with all her might, and took away his head
from him.

She put the head in her bag of meat and gave it to her maid, and the
twain went forth together, according to their custom, as unto prayer,
and passed the camp. Then came they to Bethulia, and were admitted into
the city; and the people were astonished wonderfully and worshipped God,
and said: Blessed be thou, O our God, which hast this day brought to
nought the enemies of thy people. The head of Holofernes was hanged up
on the highest place of the city walls, and the men of Israel went forth
by bands into the passes of the mountain. When the Assyrians saw this,
they sent to Holofernes's tent, and said that the slaves of Israelites
had come forth against them in battle. Then Bagoas went into the tent
and found the body of Holofernes cast upon the ground and his head taken
away. When also he found not Judith, he leaped out to the people and
told them; and great fear and trembling fell upon them, and they fled,
being chased until past Damascus and the borders thereof by the children
of Israel, who gat many spoils. Then Judith sang a song of thanksgiving
in all Israel, and the people sang after her. She dedicated the spoil of
Holofernes, which the people had given her, for a gift unto the Lord;
and when she died in Bethulia, a widow of great honour, all Israel did
lament.


THE BOOK OF ESTHER


     These are the chapters of the Book of Esther, which are found
     neither in the Hebrew nor in the Chaldee.


In the second year of the reign of Artaxerxes the Great, Mardocheus, who
was a Jew and dwelt in the city of Susa, had a dream. And the same night
he overheard two eunuchs plotting to lay hands on Artaxerxes, and he,
being a servitor in the king's court, told the king; and the eunuchs,
after examination, were strangled. Aman, because of this, induced
Artaxerxes to write to all the princes and governors from India unto
Ethiopia to destroy all the Jews, with their wives and children, without
pity, on the fourteenth day of the twelfth month of Adar. Mardocheus and
Queen Esther, being in the fear of death, resorted unto the Lord, and
prayed for deliverance, and for the preservation of the children of
Israel. On the third day, Queen Esther cometh unto the king's presence;
and she was ruddy through the perfection of her beauty, but her heart
was in anguish for fear. The king looketh angrily at her as she stood
before his royal throne, and she fainteth. Then God changed the spirit
of the king, who leaped from his throne, took her in his arms, saying:
Be of good cheer, thou shalt not die, though our commandment be general.
As he was speaking, she fell a second time for faintness, and the king
was troubled and all his servants comforted her.

Artaxerxes then wrote a letter to all the princes wherein he taxed Aman,
the Macedonian, with having by manifold and cunning deceits sought the
destruction of Mardocheus, who had saved the king's life, and also of
the blameless Esther, partaker of his kingdom, with their whole nation.
The king revoked the decree procured by Aman, who, with all his family,
was hanged at the gates of Susa. And the king commanded the day of their
deliverance to be kept holy.


THE WISDOM OF SOLOMON


Love righteousness, ye that be judges of the earth, for into a malicious
soul wisdom shall not enter. The spirit of the Lord filleth the world:
therefore he that speaketh unrighteous things cannot be hid. Seek not
death in the error of your life: for God made not death, and
righteousness is immortal. The ungodly reason, but not aright: life is
short and tedious, which, being extinguished, our bodies shall be turned
into ashes, and our spirit vanish as the soft air. Come, therefore, let
us enjoy the good things that are present. Their own wickedness hath
blinded them, for God created man to be immortal.

Nevertheless, through envy of the devil came death into the world. The
souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and there shall no
torments touch them. Having been a little chastised they shall be
greatly rewarded. Better to have no children and to have virtue; for
children begotten of unlawful beds are witnesses against their parents.
Honourable age is not measured by number of years. He, being made
perfect in a short time, fulfilled a long time. For his soul pleased the
Lord: Therefore, hasted he to take him away from among the wicked. This
the people saw and understood it not, neither laid they up this in their
minds. That his grace and mercy are with his saints, and that he hath
respect unto his chosen. The wicked wonder at the godly, and say: What
hath pride profited us? And what good hath riches, with our vaunting,
brought us? All those things are passed away like a shadow. The hope of
the ungodly is like dust that is blown away: but the righteous live for
evermore: their reward is a beautiful crown from the Lord's hand. Wisdom
is easily found of such as seek her, therefore princes must desire her;
for a wise prince is the stay of his people. He that hath Wisdom hath
every good thing. Moreover, by her means man shall obtain immortality,
and leave behind him an everlasting memorial.


THE WISDOM OF JESUS THE SON OF SIRACH; OR ECCLESIASTICUS.


     There are two prologues to this book. The first is by an
     uncertain author, stating that the book is the compilation of
     three hands and is in imitation of the Book of Solomon. The
     second prologue is by Jesus, the son of Sirach and grandchild
     to Jesus of the same name, who had read the law and the
     prophets and other books of the fathers, and had been drawn
     himself to write something pertaining to wisdom and learning.
     Coming into Egypt when Euergetes was king, Jesus, son of
     Sirach, found a book of no small learning and bestowed
     diligence and travail to interpret it, and to bring it to an
     end. The following are among the precepts given:


All wisdom cometh from the Lord: she is with all flesh according to his
gift. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and driveth away
sins. My son, if thou come to serve the Lord, prepare thy soul for
temptation. Set thy heart aright, and constantly endure. Woe be to
fearful hearts; but they that fear the Lord shall be filled with the
law. Whoso honoureth his father maketh an atonement for his sins. He
that honoureth his mother layeth up treasure. Seek not out the things
that are too hard for thee: profess not the knowledge that thou hast
not. Defraud not the poor of his living: and be not fainthearted when
thou sittest in judgment. Set not thy heart upon thy goods, for the Lord
will surely revenge thy pride. Winnow not with every wind, and let thy
life be sincere. Do not extol thy own conceit: if thou wouldst get a
friend, prove him first. A faithful friend is a strong defence. Seek not
of the Lord preeminence: humble thy soul greatly. Fear the Lord, and
reverence his priests. Stretch thine hand unto the poor, and mourn with
them that mourn. Strive not with a mighty man: kindle not the coals of a
sinner. Lend not unto him that is mightier than thyself: be not surety
above thy power. Go not to law with a judge: consult not with a fool.
Judge none blessed before his death. He that toucheth pitch shall be
denied therewith: like will to like. Say not thou: it is through the
Lord that I fell away: He has caused me to err. The Lord made man from
the beginning and left him in the hand of his counsel. He has commanded
no man to do wickedly, neither has he given any man licence to sin. The
knowledge of wickedness is not wisdom: neither at any time the counsel
of sinners prudence. Whoso discovereth secrets loseth his credit and
shall never find friend to his mind. Health and good estate of body are
above all gold. There is no joy above the joy of the heart. Give not
over thy mind to heaviness: the joyfulness of a man prolongeth his days.
Envy and wrath shorten life: carefulness bringeth age before the time.

[Then follow praises of a good householder, a good physician, a wise
interpreter of the law, and injunctions as to how a man should bear the
miseries of life, and face the approach of death. And the book concludes
with praises of the Patriarchs and the Prophets.]


BARUCH


Baruch, the son of Nerias, wrote a book in Babylon what time the
Chaldeans took Jerusalem and burnt it with fire. Baruch read the words
of his book in the hearing of Jechonias, the son of the King of Juda,
and in the ears of all the people. The Jews wept at the reading of it,
by the river Sud, and made a collection of money to send to Jerusalem,
unto the High Priest Joachim, to buy burnt offerings and sin offerings
and incense, and to prepare manna to be offered upon the altar of the
Lord. The people at Jerusalem are asked also to pray for the life of
Nabuchodonosor, King of Babylon, and his son Balthasar, and for those
who sent the gifts and the book. The book begins with a prayer and
confession which the Jews at Babylon make, acknowledging that they are
yet this day in captivity for a reproach and a curse, and to be subject
to payments according to all the iniquities of their fathers which
departed from the Lord our God. Then beginneth the book:

Hear, Israel, the commandments of life: give ear to understand wisdom.
Let them that dwell about Sion come, and remember the captivity of my
sons and daughters, which the Everlasting hath brought upon them. Be of
good cheer, O my children, crying unto the Lord, and He shall deliver
you from the power and hand of the enemies. I sent you out with mourning
and weeping: but God will give you to me again with joy and gladness for
ever. Put off, O Jerusalem, the garment of thy mourning and affliction,
and put on the comeliness of the glory that cometh from God for ever;
for behold, thy children gathereth from the west and from the east and
return out of captivity with glory.

[With this book of Baruch there is an Epistle of Jeremy, which he sent
unto them that were to be led captive into Babylon because of their
sins. The prophet describes the idols and the conduct of the priests and
those who attend the heathen temples and warns the captives not to
worship the false gods in Babylon.]


SONG OF THE THREE HOLY CHILDREN


[This Song is not in the Hebrew of the Book of Daniel.]

They walked in the midst of the fire praising God and blessing the Lord.
Azarias opened his mouth in the midst of the flame and made confession
of sins, and prayer for deliverance to the confusion of their enemies.
Whereupon, the king's servants that put them in ceased not to make the
oven hot with rosin, pitch, tow, and small wood, so that the flame
passed through and burned those Chaldeans it found about the furnace.
But the Angel of the Lord came down into the oven and made the midst of
the furnace as it had been a moist whistling wind, so that the fire
touched Azarias and his fellows not at all, neither hurt nor troubled
them. Then the three, as out of one mouth, praised, glorified, and
blessed God in the furnace, saying: The Lord hath delivered us from
hell, and saved us from the hand of death: for his mercy endureth for
ever.


THE HISTORY OF SUSANNA


There dwelt a man in Babylon called Joacim. And he took a wife whose
name was Susanna, a very fair woman, and one that feared the Lord. The
same year were appointed two of the ancients of the people to be judges;
and they saw Susanna walking in her husband's garden, and their lust was
inflamed towards her. Now, Susanna went into the garden to bathe, for it
was hot, and dismissed her maids. The two elders, who had hidden in the
garden, rose up and said: Consent and lie with us. If thou wilt not, we
will bear witness against thee that a young man was with thee, and
therefore thou didst send thy maids away. Then Susanna cried with a loud
voice, and the two elders cried out against her, and declared their
matter. The servants rushed in at the privy door and were greatly
ashamed, for there was never such a report made of Susanna. It came to
pass the next day when the people were assembled to her husband Joacim,
with the two elders full of mischievous imagination against Susanna,
these wicked men commanded Susanna to uncover her face that they might
be filled with her beauty, and her friends and all that saw her wept.
Then the elders made their charge which they had agreed upon against
Susanna, and the assembled people believed them: so they condemned her
to death. Then Susanna cried to the Everlasting God, saying: Thou
knowest that they have borne false witness against me, and that I never
did such things as these men have maliciously invented against me. And
the Lord heard her voice.

When she was led to be put to death, the Lord raised up the holy spirit
of a youth named Daniel, who said: Are ye such fools, ye sons of Israel,
that without examination or knowledge of the truth ye have condemned a
daughter of Israel? Then Daniel put the two elders aside, one far from
the other, to examine them. To the first he said: If thou hast seen her,
under what tree sawest thou them companying together? He answered: Under
a mastic tree. Daniel said: Very well; and he put him aside and
commanded the other to be brought. Tell me, he said, under what tree
didst thou take them companying together? He answered: Under an holm
tree. Then Daniel said: These men have lied against their own heads, for
even now the Angel of God waiteth with the sword that he may destroy
them. Then all the assembly arose against the two elders, for Daniel had
convicted them of false witness by their own mouth; and they put them to
death. Thus the innocent blood was saved the same day; and from that
time forth was Daniel had in great reputation in the sight of the
people.


THE HISTORY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF BEL AND THE DRAGON


When Cyrus of Persia received his kingdom, Daniel conversed with him,
and was honoured above all his friends. Now, the Babylonians had an idol
called Bel, which the king worshipped, but Daniel worshipped his own
God. The king said unto him: Why dost thou not worship Bel? Daniel
answered: Because I may not worship idols made with hands, but the
living God. Then the king said: Thinkest thou not that Bel is a living
god? Seest thou not how much he eateth and drinketh every day? Then
Daniel smiled and said: O king, be not deceived; for this is but clay
within and brass without, and it never eateth or drinketh anything. Then
trial was made by order of the king, and meat and wine were set in the
temple, the door made fast, and sealed with the king's signet. The
priests of Bel were three score and ten, besides their wives and
children, and they little regarded the trial, for under the table they
had made a privy entrance, whereby they entered the temple continually
and consumed the meat and the wine. But Daniel had commanded his
servants to strew the temple floor with ashes, before the door was shut
and sealed. Now, in the night came the priests with their wives and
children, as they were wont, and did eat and drink up all.

In the morning betimes the king arose, and Daniel with him. As soon as
the door was opened, the king looked upon the table, and cried with a
loud voice: Great art thou, O Bel, and with thee is no deceit at all.
Then laughed Daniel, and said: Behold the pavement, and mark well whose
footsteps are these. And the king saw the footsteps of men, women, and
children, and was angry when he was shown the privy doors where they
came in and consumed such things as were upon the table. Therefore the
king slew them, and delivered Bel into Daniel's power, who destroyed the
idol and the temple.

In the same place there was a great dragon, which they of Babylon
worshipped. The king said to Daniel: Lo! this dragon liveth, eateth,
drinketh; thou canst not say that he is no living god; therefore worship
him. Then said Daniel: I will worship the Lord, for he is the living
God. But give me leave, O king, and I shall slay this dragon without
sword or staff.

The king gave him leave, and Daniel took pitch, and fat, and hair, and
did seethe them together, and made lumps thereof. These he put in the
dragon's mouth, and the dragon burst in sunder. Then Daniel said: Lo,
these are the gods ye worship!

When they of Babylon heard that, they conspired against the king,
saying: The king is become a Jew. So they came to the king, and said:
Deliver us Daniel, or else we will destroy thee and thine house. Being
sore constrained, the king delivered Daniel unto them, and they cast him
into the lions' den, where he was six days, during which the seven lions
were given no carcases, to the intent that they might devour Daniel.

Now, there was in Jewry a prophet called Habakkuk who made pottage and
broken bread to take to the reapers in the field. An Angel of the Lord
said unto Habakkuk: Go, carry the dinner that thou hast into Babylon
unto Daniel, who is in the lions' den. And Habakkuk said: Lord, I never
saw Babylon; neither do I know where the den is. Then the Angel of the
Lord took Habakkuk by the crown, and bare him by the hair of his head,
and through the vehemency of his spirit set him in Babylon over the den.
And Habakkuk cried: O Daniel, take the dinner which God has sent thee.
And Daniel said: Thou hast remembered me, O God: neither hast thou
forsaken them that seek thee and love thee. So Daniel arose, and did
eat: And the Angel of the Lord set Habakkuk in his own place
immediately. Upon the seventh day the king went to bewail Daniel; and
when he came to the den, behold, Daniel was sitting. Then cried the king
with a loud voice, saying: Great art thou, O Lord God of Daniel, and
there is none other besides thee. And he drew Daniel out, and cast those
that were the cause of his suffering into the den; and they were
devoured by the lions in a moment before his face.


THE PRAYER OF MANASSES


The Prayer of Manasses, King of Juda, when he was holden captive in
Babylon, is an enumeration of the attributes of the Almighty God of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and of their righteous seed; a general
confession of sins; and an entreaty that God would show him great mercy
and goodness, forgive him, and condemn him not into the lower parts of
the earth. Therefore, he would praise the Lord for ever, all the days of
his life.


THE FIRST BOOK OF THE MACCABEES


Antiochus, surnamed Epiphanes, reigned in the hundred and thirty-seventh
year of the kingdom of the Greeks. In those days certain wicked men of
Israel went to the king, who gave them licence to do after the
ordinances of the heathen. Whereupon, they built a place of exercise at
Jerusalem according to the custom of the heathen. Now, Antiochus made
war against Egypt, and when he had smitten the strong cities, and taken
the spoils thereof, he returned in the hundred forty and third year and
went up against Israel and Jerusalem, and captured the city with great
massacre and spoiled the Temple, and took away the vessels of gold and
silver and hidden treasures which he found therein. Therefore, there was
great mourning in Israel. Two years after, the king sent his chief
collector of tribute unto the cities of Juda, and he fell suddenly upon
Jerusalem, set fire to it, and pulled down the houses and walls thereof.
And the women and children he took away captive, and defiled the
sanctuary.

But the enemy builded the city of David, with a great and strong wall
and mighty towers, and stored it with armour and victuals and the spoils
of Jerusalem, so that it became a sore snare against the sanctuary and
an evil adversary to Israel. Moreover, King Antiochus wrote to his whole
kingdom that all should be one people, and sent letters unto Jerusalem
and the cities of Juda commanding that the Israelites should abandon
their own worship, cease to circumcise their children, and adore his
idols. Then was the abomination of desolation set up in the Temple, and
idol altars were builded throughout the cities of Juda, and the books of
the law were burned. Howbeit many in Israel chose rather to die that
they might not be defiled with meats and profane the Holy Covenant. In
those days arose Mattathias, a priest of the sons of Joarib. He dwelt in
Modin, and had five sons--Joannan, Simon, Judas who was called
Maccabeus, Eleazar, and Jonathan. The king's officers came to Modin and
asked Mattathias to fulfil the king's commandment; but Mattathias said:
Though all the nations consent, yet will I and my sons walk in the
covenant of our fathers. And he slew a Jew that did sacrifice to idols
in his presence, and the king's messenger also. So he and his sons fled
into the mountains, and, being joined by a company of mighty men of
Israel, went round about, and pulled down idol altars and circumcised
the children valiantly. And the work prospered in their hands, and they
recovered the law out of the hands of the Gentiles. When Mattathias came
to die he appointed Simon as a man of counsel, and Judas Maccabeus, who
had been mighty and strong in battle even from his youth up, to be their
captain to avenge the wrongs of their people. So he died in his hundred
forty and sixth year, and was buried in the sepulchre of his fathers at
Modin, and all Israel made great lamentation for him.

Now, Judas Maccabeus fought the battles of his people with great
valiance, captured the cities of Juda, drove Apollonius and a great host
out of Samaria, slew Apollonius, took their spoils, and Apollonius's
sword also, and therewith he fought all his life long. Judas also
overthrew Seron and the great army of Syria. Then Judas was renowned
unto the utmost parts of the earth, and an exceeding great dread fell
upon the nations round about. Now, when King Antiochus heard these
things he was full of indignation; wherefore he sent and gathered
together all the forces of his realm. And the king sent Lysias, one of
the blood royal, with a great army to go into the land of Juda and
destroy it. Judas and his brethren, when he heard this, assembled the
Israelites at Maspha, over against Jerusalem, where they fasted; and
Judas organised and armed them to battle, and camped at Emmaus. Gorgias,
the lieutenant of Lysias, attempted to surprise Judas, but Judas joined
him in battle and discomfited him, putting his host to flight and
gaining great spoil. Next year Lysias gathered another army, that he
might subdue the Israelites, and came into Idumea, and pitched tents at
Bethsura. But Judas joined him in battle, and put Lysias and his army to
flight. After this, Judas and his brethren came to Jerusalem, pulled
down the altar which the heathen had profaned, and set up a new altar.
He also builded up Mount Sion with strong towers and high walls. After
that Judas smote the children of Esau, Bean, and Ammon, and sent Simon
into Galilee, while he, with his brother Jonathan, went over Jordan, and
captured the cities of Galaad. About that time Antiochus was in Persia,
and heard of the doings of Judas. He was astonished and sore moved, and
fell sick of grief and died. Lysias set up Antiochus, his son, as king,
and called him Eupator, and brought a great army into Juda. The number
of his army was an hundred thousand footmen, twenty thousand horsemen,
and two and thirty elephants. Judas went out from Jerusalem and pitched
in Bathzacharias over against the king's camp. Then a great battle was
fought, when Judas was defeated. There being a famine in the city, he
made peace with Eupator, who, however, ordered the wall round about Sion
to be pulled down.

Demetrius came from Rome and attacked Eupator in Antioch, captured the
city, and slew Eupator and Lysias. Alsimus, who wished to be high
priest, complained to Demetrius of Judas, and the king sent Nicanor, a
man that bare deadly hate unto Israel, to destroy the people; but he was
defeated by Judas at Capharsalama with great slaughter, and in a second
battle Nicanor's host was discomfited and he himself was slain, and his
head and right hand were hanged up on the tower at Jerusalem. This was a
day of great gladness to Israel, and the victory was kept holy every
year after.

Now, Judas, being informed of the power and policy of the Romans, made a
league with them of mutual help. Notwithstanding, Demetrius sent
Bacchides and Alcimus a second time into Judea with a great host, and
camped at Berea. Now, Judas had pitched his tent at Eleasa, where,
seeing the multitude of the other army to be so great, his men began to
desert him, whereupon Judas said: God forbid that I should flee away
from the enemy; if our time be come, let us die manfully for our
brethren, and let us not stain our honour.

The armies came to battle, and the earth shook at the noise thereof, and
the fight continued from morning to night. Judas discomfited the right
wing of the enemy under Bacchides and pursued them to Mount Azotus, but
the left wing followed upon Judas and a sore battle took place, insomuch
that many were slain on both sides. Judas was killed also, and the rest
of his army fled. The body of Judas was taken to the sepulchre of his
fathers at Modin by Jonathan and Simon, his brothers, and all Israel
made lamentation for him, and mourned many days, saying: How is the
valiant man fallen that delivered Israel!

Jonathan took command of the Israelites in the room of Judas, and made
peace with Bacchides. Thereafter, Demetrius made large offers to have
peace with Jonathan, including freedom of worship and release of
tribute, together with the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem and the
towers thereof, and the repairs of the sanctuary; but Jonathan and the
people gave no credit to these words because they remembered the great
evil Demetrius had done in Israel. Jonathan made peace with Alexander,
and joined him in battle against Demetrius, whose host fled, and he
himself was slain.

After that Demetrius the younger came out of Crete, and sent a great
host to Azotus. Here Jonathan attacked him, and with the help of Simon,
his brother, defeated the enemy and set fire to Azotus, and the temple
of Dagon therein. There were burned and slain with the sword eight
thousand men. Now, King Alexander honoured Jonathan and sent him a
buckle of gold such as is given to those of the king's blood. After
these days, Jonathan did many wonderful exploits in Galilee and
Damascus, and then returned to Jerusalem. Now, when Jonathan saw that
the time served him, he renewed his league with the Romans and
Lacedemonians, and pursued the Arabians unto Damascus. He strengthened
the cities of Juda, but he was captured by fraud by Tryphon at
Ptolemais. Simon was made captain in his brother Jonathan's room, and
prepared to attack Tryphon and, rescue his brother, but Tryphon slew
Jonathan, and returned into his own country.

The land of Juda was quiet all the days of Simon, and every man sat
under his own vine and fig-tree. When Simon was visiting the cities that
were in the country, Ptolemeus, son of Abubus, the captain of Jerico,
invited Simon and his two sons into his castle, called Docus. There a
great banquet was given, at which Simon and his sons drank largely, and
Ptolemeus and his men came into the banqueting place and slew them.


THE SECOND BOOK OF THE MACCABEES


The brethren, the Jews that were at Jerusalem and in the land of Judea,
wrote a letter to the Jews that were throughout Egypt to thank God for
the death of Antiochus. In his letter are recounted all the sayings of
Jeremy, and the great deeds of Judas Maccabeus and his brother Simon, as
recorded in the books of Jason, until Nicanor the blasphemer was killed,
and his head hanged upon the tower at Jerusalem, from which time forth
the Hebrews had the city in their power.

       *       *       *       *       *



ST. AUGUSTINE


THE CITY OF GOD


     A French critic has said of Augustine's "City of God" that it
     is the earliest serious attempt to write a philosophy of
     history, and another has spoken of it as the encyclopaedia of
     the fifth century. These two remarks together characterise the
     work excellently. It is a huge treatise in twenty-two books,
     begun in the year 413, and finished in 426, and was given to
     the public in sections as these were completed. Augustine (see
     LIVES AND LETTERS) himself explains the origin of the work.
     The fall of Rome by Alaric's invasion in 410 had been ascribed
     to the desertion of the old gods of Rome and to the wide
     extension of Christianity, or the City of God, throughout the
     empire. It was to refute this calumny that the learned African
     bishop elaborated his great defense of Christ's kingdom, the
     "Catholic Church, which should include all nations and speak
     in all tongues." In Books 1-5 St. Augustine shows that the
     catastrophe of Rome was not due to the neglect of the old
     mythological superstitions; and in Books 6-10 that the heathen
     cult was helpless for the life after death. Books 11-14 deal
     with the origin of the two cities, namely, of God and the
     World; Books 15-18 with their respective histories, and Books
     19-22 with their respective ultimate destinies.


_I.--THE ORIGIN OF THE TWO CITIES_


I write, dear Marcellinus, of that most glorious City of God, both in
her present pilgrimage and life by faith, and in that fixed and
everlasting seat which she awaits in patience. I write to defend her
against those who place their gods above her Founder--a great and
arduous work, but God is my aid. I well know what power a writer needs
who would show the proud how great is the virtue of humility. For the
law of our King and Founder is this: "God is against the proud but gives
grace to the humble"; but the swollen and insolent soul loves herein to
usurp the divine Majesty, and itself "to spare the subject and subdue
the proud." Wherefore I may not pass over in silence that earthly city
also, enslaved by its lust of empire.

For it is from this City of the World that those enemies have arisen,
against whom we have to defend the City of God; Romans, spared by the
barbarians on Christ's account, are haters of the name of Christ. The
shrines of the martyrs and the basilicas of the apostles received, in
the devastation of the city, not their own people only, but every
fugitive; and the fury and greed of the invaders were quenched at these
holy thresholds. Yet with thankless arrogance and impious frenzy these
men, who took refuge under that Name in order that they might enjoy the
light of fugitive years, perversely oppose it now, that they may
languish in sempiternal gloom.

Never has it been known, in so many wars as are recorded from before the
foundation of Rome to the present day, that an enemy, having reduced any
city, should have spared those who had fled to the temples of their
gods; not even the Romans themselves, whose moderation in victory has so
often been justly praised, have respected the sanctuary of vanquished
deities. The devastation and massacre and pillage and conflagrations of
the sack of Rome were nothing new. But this one thing was new and
unheard of--these savages became suddenly so mild as to set apart
spacious basilicas and to fill them with people on whom they had mercy;
no one might be killed therein nor any dragged from thence. Who does not
see that this is due to the name of Christ and to a Christian age? Who
can deny that these sanguinary hordes were bridled by Him Who had said:
"I will visit their sins with the rod, but will not take my mercy from
them"?

All natures, because they exist and therefore have their manner and
species and a certain peace with themselves, are good; and when they are
in the places belonging to the order of nature, they preserve the being
which they have received.

The truest cause of the felicity of the good angels is to be found in
this, that they adhere to Him Who supremely is; and the cause of the
misery of bad angels lies in this, that they have turned away from Him
Who supremely is, to themselves, who have not supreme being. This vice
has no other name but pride, which is the beginning of every sin. They
refused to preserve their strength for Him, and so threw away that in
which all their greatness consisted. It is vain to seek for an efficient
cause for the bad will; we have to do, not with anything efficient, but
with a deficiency. The mere defection from that which supremely is to
things which are on a lower grade of being is to begin to have a bad
will.

Now God founded mankind, not as the angels, so that even did they sin
they should not die; but in such a way that did they obey, they should
enter, without death, on a blessed eternity; but, did they disobey, they
should suffer the most just penalty, both of body and of soul. For
though the human soul is truly said to be immortal, yet is there a sense
in which it dies when God forsakes it.

Only because they had begun inwardly to be evil did the first of mankind
fall into overt disobedience. A bad will had preceded the bad action,
and of that bad will the beginning was pride, or the appetite for an
inordinate rank. To lift oneself up is in itself to be cast down and to
fall. Wherefore humility is most highly of all things commended in and
to the City of God, and in Christ her King; but the contrary vice of
arrogance especially rules her adversary, the devil, and this is
unquestionably the great difference by which the two cities are divided,
and the society of the pious from the society of the impious. Thus two
loves have founded two cities, the love of Self extending to contempt of
God has made the City of the World; the love of God extending to
contempt of Self has made the Heavenly City.


_II.--THE GROWTH OF THE CITIES_


This whole universal time or age, in which the dying give way and the
newborn succeed them, is the scene and history of those two cities which
are our theme. The City of the World, which lasts not for ever, has its
good here below, and rejoices in it with such joy as is possible. The
objects of its desire are not otherwise than good, and itself is the
best of the good things of earth. It desires an earthly peace for lower
ends, makes wars to gain this peace, wins glorious victories, and when
victory crowns a just cause, who shall not acclaim the wished-for peace?
These things are good indeed, and unquestionably are the gifts of God.
But if, neglecting the better things, which belong to the supernal city,
they covet these lower ends as if there were none higher, misery must
inevitably follow.

All men, indeed, desire peace; but while the society which does not live
by faith seeks its peace in the temporal advantages of the present life,
that which lives by faith awaits the promised blessings, and makes use
of earthly and temporal things only as pilgrims do. The earthly city
seeks its peace in a harmony of the wills of men with respect to the
things of this life. And the heavenly city also, or, rather, that part
of it which travels in this mortality, must use that earthly peace while
mortality remains. Living a captive life in the midst of the earthly
city, it does not hesitate to respect its laws. Since this mortality is
common to both cities, there is a concord between them in the things
that belong to it. Only, the heavenly city cannot have common laws of
religion with the earthly city, but has been forced to dissent, and to
suffer hatred and the storms of persecution.

Therefore, this heavenly city, a pilgrim upon earth, calls out citizens
from all peoples and collects a pilgrim society of all tongues, careless
what differences there may be in manners, laws and institutions by which
earthly peace is achieved and maintained, destroying none of these, but
rather serving and fulfilling them. Even the celestial city, therefore,
uses the earthly peace, and uses it as a means to the heavenly peace;
for that alone can be called the peace of a rational creature which
consists in a harmonious society devoted to the enjoyment of God and one
another in God.

As for that uncertainty with regard to everything, which characterises
the New Academy, the City of God detests all such doubting as a form of
madness, since she has the most certain knowledge of those things which
she understands by mind and reason, however that knowledge may be
limited by our corruptible body. She believes also the evidence of the
senses, which the mind uses through the body, for he is miserably
deceived who regards them as untrustworthy. She believes also the holy
Scriptures, which we call canonical.

It is no matter to the City of God what dress the citizen wears, or what
manner of life he follows, so long as it is not contrary to the Divine
commands; so that she does not compel the philosophers, who become
Christians, to change their habit or their means of life, which are no
hindrance to religion, but only their false opinions. As for these three
kinds of life, the contemplative, the active, and that which partakes of
both qualities, although a man living in faith may adopt any of them,
and therein reach eternal reward, yet the love of truth and the duties
of charity alike must have their place. One may not so give himself to
contemplation as to neglect the good of his neighbour, nor be so deeply
immersed in action as to neglect the contemplation of God. In leisure we
ought to delight, not in an empty inertia, but in the inquisition or
discovery of truth, in such a way that each may make progress without
envying the attainments of another. In action we ought to seek neither
the honours of this life nor power, since all that is under the sun is
vanity; but only the work itself, which our situation enables us to do,
and to do it rightly and serviceably.

According to the definitions which Scipio used in Cicero's "Republic,"
there never really existed a Roman republic. For he briefly defines a
republic as the estate of the people--"res publica" as "res populi," and
defines the people as a multitudinous assemblage, united by consent to
law and by community of advantage. So, then, where justice is not, there
can be no people; and if no people, then no estate of the people, but
only of a confused multitude unworthy of the name of a people. Where no
justice is, there is no commonwealth. Now, justice is a virtue
distributing unto everyone his due. Where, then, is the justice of the
man who deserts the true God and gives himself over to unclean demons?
Is this giving everyone his due?

But if we define a people in another way, and consider it as an
assemblage of rational beings united by unanimity as to the objects of
their love, then, in order to ascertain the character of a people, we
must ascertain what things they love. Whatever it loves, so long as it
is an assemblage of rational creatures and not a herd of cattle, and is
agreed as to the objects of its love, it is truly a people, though so
much the better as its concord lies in better things, and so much the
worse as its concord lies in inferior things. According to this
definition, then, the Roman people is indeed a people, and its estate is
a commonwealth. But what things that people has loved in its earlier and
later times, and how it fell into bloody seditions and into social and
civil wars, breaking and corrupting that concord which is the health of
a people--of these things history is witness. Yet I would not on that
account deny it the name of a people, nor its estate the name of a
republic, so long as there remains some assemblage of rational persons
associated by unanimity with regard to the objects of love. But in
general, whatever be the nation in question, whether Athens, Egypt,
Babylon, or Rome, the city of the ungodly--refusing obedience to the
commandment of God that no sacrifice should be offered but to Him
alone--is without true justice.

For though there may be an apparent mastery of the soul over the body,
and of reason over vices, yet if soul and reason do not serve God as He
has commanded, they can have no true dominion over the body and its
passions. How can the mind which is ignorant of the true God, and
instead of obeying Him is prostituted to impure demons, be true mistress
of the body and the vices? Nay, the very virtues which it appears to
itself to possess, by which it rules the body and the vices in order
that it may obtain and guard the objects which it desires, being
undirected to God, are rather vices than virtues. For as that which
makes flesh to live is not flesh but above it, so that which enables man
to live in blessedness is not of man, but above him.


_III.--THE DESTINY OF THE JUST_


Who is able to tell of the creation, with its beauty and utility, which
God has set before the eyes of man, though here condemned to labour and
sorrow? The innumerable loveliness of sky, earth and sea, the abundance
and wonder of light, the sun, moon and stars, the shade of trees, the
colours and fragrance of flowers, the multitude of birds of varied hue
and song, the many forms of animals, of which the smallest are more
wonderful than the greatest, the works of bees more amazing than the
vast bodies of whales--who shall describe them?

What shall those rewards, then, be? What will God give them whom He has
predestined to life, having given such great things to those whom He has
predestined to death? What in that blessed life will He lavish upon
those for whom He gave His Son to death? What will the state of man's
spirit be when it has become wholly free from vice; yielding to none,
enslaved by none, warring against none, but perfectly and wholly at
peace with itself?

Who can say, or even imagine, what degrees of glory shall there be given
to the degrees of merit? Yet we cannot doubt that there will be degrees;
and that in that blessed city no one in lower place shall envy his
superior; for no one will wish to be that which he has not received,
though bound in closest concord with him who has received. Together with
his reward, each shall have the gift of contentment, so as to desire no
more than he has. There we shall rest and see, we shall see and love, we
shall love and praise. For what other end have we, but to reach the
kingdom of which there is no end?

       *       *       *       *       *



RICHARD BAXTER


THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST


     Richard Baxter, the Puritan author of one hundred and
     sixty-eight volumes, of which "The Saints Everlasting Rest"
     was, and is, the most popular, was born in 1615 during the
     reign of James I., and died in 1691, soon after the accession
     of William III. His lifetime, therefore, was coincident with
     the troubles of the Stuart House. For fifty years Baxter was
     one of the best known divines in England. Throughout, his was
     a moderating influence in politics, the Church, and theology.
     His best known pastorate, one of extraordinary success, was at
     Kidderminster, between his twenty-sixth and forty-fifth years,
     and there, in an interlude of ill-health of more than
     customary severity--for all his life he was ailing--he wrote,
     anticipatory of death, "The Saints Everlasting Rest." The
     book, which was dedicated to his "dearly beloved friends the
     inhabitants of the Borrough and Forreign of Kederminster," was
     published in 1650 and had an immediate and almost
     unparallelled success. Twenty thousand copies were sold in the
     year after publication, and various editions are now in
     circulation. The saintliness of this broad-minded divine's
     character emerges unsullied from an age of contentious
     bigotry.


_I.--THE NATURE OF REST_

    "There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God."
      --Heb. iv, 9.


It was not only our interest in God and actual fruition of Him which was
lost in Adam's covenant-breaking fall, but all spiritual knowledge of
Him, and true disposition towards such a felicity. Man hath now a heart
too suitable to his low estate--a low state, and a low spirit. And when
the Son of God comes with tenders of a spiritual and eternal happiness
and glory, He finds not faith in man to believe it; but, as the poor man
would not believe that any one man had such a sum as a hundred
pounds--it was so far above what he possessed--so no man will hardly now
believe that there is such a happiness as once he had, much less as
Christ hath now procured.

The Apostle bestows most of his epistle against this distemper, and
clearly and largely proves that the rest of Sabbaths and Canaan should
teach men to look for further rest, which indeed is their happiness.
What more welcome to men under personal afflictions, tiring duty,
successions of sufferings, than rest? What more welcome news to men
under public calamities, unpleasing employment, plundering losses, sad
tidings, than this of rest?

Now let us see what this rest is. Though the sense of the text includes
in the word "rest" all that ease and safety which a soul hath with
Christ in _this life_--the rest of grace--yet because it chiefly intends
the rest of eternal glory I shall confine my discourse to this last.

Rest is the end and perfection of motion. The saints' rest, here in
question, is _the most happy estate of a Christian having obtained the
end of his course_.

May we show what this rest containeth. Alas! how little know I of that
whereof I am about to speak. Shall I speak before I know? If I stay till
I clearly know I shall not come again to speak. Therefore will I speak
that little which I do know of it rather than be wholly silent.

There is contained in this rest a cessation from motion or action. When
we have obtained the haven we have done with sailing; when we are at our
journey's end we have done with the way. There shall be no more prayer
because no more necessity, but the full enjoyment of what we prayed for.
Neither shall we need to fast and weep and watch any more, being out of
the reach of sin and temptations. Nor will there be use for instructions
and exhortations; preaching is done; the ministry of man ceaseth;
sacraments useless; the labourer called in because the harvest is
gathered, the tares burned, the work done.

This rest containeth a perfect freedom from all the evils that accompany
us through our course, and which necessarily follow our absence from the
chief good. Doubtless there is not such a thing as grief and sorrow
known there; nor is there such a thing as a pale face, a languid body,
feeble joints, unable infancy, decrepit age, peccant humours, dolorous
sickness, griping fears, consuming care, nor whatsoever deserveth the
name of evil. Indeed, a gale of groans and sighs, a stream of tears
accompanied us to the very gates, and there bid us farewell for ever.

This rest containeth the highest degree of the saints' personal
perfection, both of soul and body. This necessarily qualifies them to
enjoy the glory and thoroughly to partake the sweetness of it. This is
one thing that makes the saints' joy there so great. Here eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived what God hath laid up for them
that wait for Him; but there the eye and ear and heart are made capable,
else how do they enjoy it? The more perfect the appetite the sweeter the
food; the more musical the ear the more pleasant the melody; the more
perfect the soul the more joyous those joys, and the more glorious to us
is that glory.

This rest containeth, as the principal part, our nearest fruition of
God, the chiefest good. And here, wonder not if I be at a loss. When I
know so little of God, I cannot know how much it is to enjoy Him. When
it is so little I know of mine own soul--either its quiddity or quality,
while it is here in this tabernacle--how little must I needs know of the
infinite majesty, or the state of this soul when it is advanced to that
enjoyment. Nay, if I never saw that creature which contains not
something unsearchable, nor the worm so small which afforded not matter
for questions to puzzle the greatest philosopher that ever I met with,
no wonder if mine eye fail when I look at God, my tongue fail me in
speaking of Him, and my heart in conceiving. What strange conceivings
hath a man born blind of the sun of its light; or a man born deaf of the
nature of music; so do we want that sense by which God must be clearly
known. But this we know, the chief good is for us to be near to God.


_II.--HOW THE SAINTS WILL BE EMPLOYED_


This rest containeth a sweet and constant action of all the powers of
the soul and body in this fruition of God. It is not the rest of a stone
which ceaseth from motion when it attains the centre. Whether the
external senses, such as now we have, shall be continued and employed in
this work is a great doubt. For some of them, it is usually
acknowledged, they shall cease, because their being importeth their use,
and their use implieth our state of imperfection--as there is no use for
eating and drinking, so neither for taste. But do not all senses imply
our imperfection? As the ore is cast into the fire a stone, but comes
forth so pure a metal that it deserves another name, so far greater will
the change of our body and senses be--even so great as now we cannot
conceive. And, doubtless, as God advanceth our sense and enlargeth our
capacity, so will He advance the happiness of those senses, and fill up
with Himself all that capacity.

And if the body shall be thus employed, oh, how shall the soul be taken
up! As the bodily senses have their proper aptitude and action, so doth
the soul in its own action enjoy its own object--by knowing, by
thinking, by remembering, by loving. This is the soul's enjoying.

Knowledge of itself is very desirable, even the knowledge of some evil,
though not the evil itself. As far as a rational soul exceeds the
sensitive, so far the delights of a philosopher in discovering the
secrets of Nature, and knowing the mysteries of science, exceed the
delights of the glutton, the drunkard, the unclean, and of all
voluptuous sensualists whatsoever--so excellent is all truth. What,
then, is their delight who know the God of truth! What would I not give
so that all the uncertain, questionable principles in logic, natural
philosophy, metaphysics, and medicine were but certain in themselves and
to me, that my dull, obscure notions of them were but quick and clear.
Oh, what then should I not either perform or part with to enjoy a clear
and true apprehension of the most true God!

How noble a faculty of the soul is this understanding! It can compass
the earth; it can measure the sun, moon, stars, and heaven; it can
foreknow each eclipse to a minute many years before; yea, but the top of
all its excellency is that it can know God, who is infinite, who made
all these--a little here, and more, much more, hereafter. Oh, the wisdom
and goodness of our blessed Lord! He hath created the understanding with
a natural bias and inclination to truth as its object, and to the prime
truth as its prime object; and lest we should turn aside to any
creature, He hath kept this as His own divine prerogative, not
communicable to any creature, namely, to _be_ the prime truth.

And, doubtless, memory will not be idle or useless in this blessed work,
if it be but by looking back to help the soul to value its enjoyment.
Our knowledge will be enlarged, not diminished; therefore the knowledge
of things past shall not be taken away. And what is that knowledge but a
remembrance? Doubtless, from that height the saint can look behind him
and before him; and to compare past with present things must needs raise
in the blessed soul an unconceivable esteem and sense of its condition.
To stand on that mount whence we can see the wilderness and Canaan both
at once; to stand in heaven and look back on earth, and weigh them
together in the balance of a comparing sense and judgment, how must it
needs transport the soul and make it cry out: Have the gales of grace
blown me into such a harbour! O, blessed way, and thrice blessed end!

And now if there be such a thing as indignation left how will it here
let fly: O vile nature that resisted so much and so long such a
blessing! Unworthy soul, is this the place thou camest so unwillingly
towards? Was duty wearisome? Was the world too good to lose? Didst thou
stick at leaving all, denying all, and suffering anything for this? Wast
thou loth to die to come to this? O false heart, that had almost
betrayed me and lost me this glory!

But oh, the full, the near, the sweet enjoyment is that of the
affections--love and joy! It is near, for love is of the essence of the
soul; love is the essence of God, for God is love. Oh, the high delights
of this love! The content that the heart findeth in it! Surely love is
both work and wages.

But, alas! my fearful heart scarce dares proceed. Methinks I hear the
Almighty's voice saying to me, as to Job, "Who is this that darkeneth
counsel by words without knowledge?" But pardon, O Lord, Thy servant's
sin. I have not pried into unrevealed things, nor with audacious wits
curiously searched into Thy counsels; but, indeed, I have dishonoured
Thy Holiness, wronged Thine Excellency, disgraced Thy saints' glory by
my own exceeding disproportionate pourtraying. I bewail that my
conceivings fall so short, my apprehensions are so dull, my thoughts so
mean, my affections so stupid, expressions so low, and unbeseeming such
a glory. But I have only heard by the hearing of the ear. Oh, let Thy
servant see Thee and possess these joys, and then I shall have more
suitable conceivings, and shall give Thee fuller glory!


_III.--HOW THE ETERNAL REST IS REACHED_


Having thus opened to you a window towards the temple, and showed you a
small glimpse of the back parts of that resemblance of the saints' rest
which I had seen in the Gospel-glass, it follows that we proceed to view
a little the adjuncts and blessed properties of this rest, and first
consider the eminent antecedents, the great preparations, the notable
introduction to this rest; for the porch of this temple is exceeding
glorious, and the gate of it is called beautiful. And here offer
themselves to our observation as the four corners of this porch the most
glorious coming and appearing of the Son of God; His wonderful raising
of our bodies from the dust, and uniting them again with the soul; His
public and solemn proceedings in their judgment; His solemn celebration
of their coronation, and His enthronising of them in their glory.

Well may the coming of Christ be reckoned into His people's glory and
enumerated with those ingredients that compound this precious antidote
of rest, for to this end it is intended, and to this end it is of
apparent necessity. Alas, fellow Christians, what should we do if our
Lord should not return? What a case are we here left in! It cannot be;
never fear it, it cannot be. And O, fellow-Christians, what a day will
that be when we, who have been kept prisoners by sin and the grave,
shall be fetched out by the Lord Himself! It will not be such a coming
as His first was--in meanness and poverty and contempt. He will not
come, O careless world, to be slighted and neglected by you any more. To
think and speak of that day with horror doth well beseem the impenitent
sinner, but ill the believing saint. How full of joy was that blessed
martyr Mr. Glover, with the discovery of Christ to his soul, after long
doubting and waiting in sorrow, so that he cries out: "He is come! He is
come!" If thou have but a dear friend returned, that hath been far and
long absent, how do all run out to meet him with joy! "Oh," said the
child, "My father is come!" Saith the wife, "My husband is come!" And
shall not we, when we behold our Lord in His majesty returning, cry out:
"He is come! He is come!"

The second stream that leadeth to Paradise is that great work of Jesus
Christ in raising our bodies from the dust and uniting them again unto
the soul. A wonderful effect of infinite power and love. "Yea, wonderful
indeed," saith unbelief, "if it be true." "What," saith the Atheist and
Sadducee, "shall all these scattered bones and dust become a man? A man
drowned in the sea is eaten by fishes, and they by men again, and these
men by worms. What is to become of the body of that first man? Shall it
rise again?" Thou fool--for so Paul calls thee--dost thou dispute
against the power of the Almighty? Wilt thou pose him with thy
sophistry? Dost thou object difficulties to infinite strength? Thou
blind mole, thou silly worm; thou little piece of creeping, breathing
clay; thou dust, thou nothing, knowest thou who it is whose power thou
dost question? If thou shouldst see Him, thou wouldst presently die. If
He should come and dispute His cause with thee, couldst thou bear it? If
thou shouldst hear His voice, couldst thou endure?

Come then, fellow-Christians, let us contentedly commit these carcasses
to the dust, knowing that prison shall not long contain them. Let us lie
down in peace and take our rest; it will not be an everlasting night or
endless sleep. As sure as we awake in the morning when we have slept out
the night, so sure shall we then awake. What if our carcasses become as
vile as those of the beasts that perish, what if our bones are digged up
and scattered about the pit brink, and worms consume our flesh, yet we
know that our Redeemer liveth, and shall stand at the last on earth, and
we shall see Him with these eyes.

The third part of this prologue to the saints' rest is the public and
solemn process at their judgment. O terrible, O joyful day! Then shall
the world behold the goodness and the severity of the Lord--on them who
perish, severity; but to His chosen, goodness. Then, fellow-Christians,
let the terror of that day be never so great, surely our Lord can mean
no ill to us.

The fourth antecedent and highest step to the saints' advancement is
their solemn coronation, enthronising and receiving into the kingdom.
They that have been faithful unto death shall receive the crown of life,
and according to the improvement of their talents here so shall their
rule and dignity be enlarged.


_IV.--EXCELLENCES OF THE ETERNAL REST_


A comfortable adjunct of this rest is the fellowship of the blessed
saints and angels of God. Oh, when I look in the faces of the precious
people of God, and believing, think of this day, what a refreshing
thought is it! Shall we not there remember, think you, the pikes which
we passed through here; our fellowship in duty and in sufferings; how
oft our groans made as it were one sound, our conjunct tears but one
stream, and our conjunct desires but one prayer. And now all our praises
shall make up one melody, and all our churches one church; and all
ourselves but one body; for we shall be one in Christ, even as He and
the Father are one.

It is a question with some whether we shall know each other in heaven or
no. Surely there shall no knowledge cease which we now have, but only
that which implieth imperfection! And what imperfection can this imply?
Nay, our present knowledge shall be increased beyond belief. It shall be
done away, but as the light of candles and stars is done away by the
rising of the sun, which is more properly a doing away of our ignorance
than of our knowledge. Indeed, we shall not know each other after the
flesh; nor by stature, voice, colour, complexion, visage, or outward
shape, but by the image of Christ and spiritual relation, and former
faithfulness in improving our talents we shall know and be known.

Again, a further excellence is this--it will be unto us a _seasonable_
rest. When we have passed a long and tedious journey, and that through
no small dangers, is not home then seasonable? When we have had a long
and perilous war, and have lived in the midst of furious enemies, and
have been forced to stand on a perpetual watch, and received from them
many a wound, would not a peace with victory be now seasonable? Some are
complaining under the pressure of the times--weary of their taxes, weary
of their quarterings, weary of plunderings, weary of their fears and
dangers, weary of their poverty and wants, and is not rest yet
seasonable? Some of us languish under continual weakness, and groan
under most grievous pains, weary of going, weary of sitting, weary of
standing, weary of lying, weary of eating, weary of speaking, weary of
waking, weary of our very friends, weary of ourselves. Oh, how oft hath
this been mine own case--and is not rest yet seasonable?

A further excellence is that this is a _suitable_ rest. Gold and earthly
glory, temporal crowns and kingdoms could not make rest for saints. Such
as their nature and desire such will be their rest.

It will, too, be absolutely _perfect and complete_--as there is no
mixture of our corruption with our graces, so there will be no mixture
of our sufferings with our solace. We shall know which was the right
side and which the wrong. Then shall our understandings receive their
light from the face of God, as the full moon from the open sun when
there is no earth to interpose betwixt them. It is a perfect rest from
perplexing doubts and fear, from all sense of God's displeasure, from
all the temptations of Satan, the world, and the flesh. And it is an
_eternal_ rest. This is the crown of our crown. Mortality is the
disgrace of all sublunary delights. But, O blessed eternity, where our
lives are perplexed by no such thoughts, nor our joys interrupted by any
such fears! Our first paradise in Eden had a way out, but none in again;
but this eternal paradise hath a way in, but no way out again. The Lord
heal our carnal hearts lest we enter not into His eternal rest because
of our unbelief.

       *       *       *       *       *



BOOK OF THE DEAD


     This is probably the oldest religious book in the world.
     Properly speaking, indeed, it is no book at all, but rather a
     collection of hymns and litanies which have no more connection
     with each other than the Psalms. Like the Psalter, too, this
     so-called book has grown by degrees to the magnitude which it
     now usually assumes in European and other libraries--175
     chapters of varying sizes. Its Egyptian name is "The Book of
     the Coming Forth by Day" (Renouf), or "The Coming Out of the
     Day" (Naville); the latter being probably more correct, "day"
     in this connection denoting man's life with its morning and
     evening. The hymns in this collection are supposed to be
     recited by the deceased person with whose body they were
     commonly buried, and by the recital of these and other sacred
     texts the departed was believed to be protected against injury
     in his journey to the underworld, and also to have secured for
     him a safe return in the form of a resurrection. It was
     Lepsius, the great German Egyptologist, who gave this
     compilation the name "Book of the Dead." Even this name,
     however, though more correct than any other, gives by no means
     an adequate account of that for which it stands. This, and
     other summaries of the sacred books of the East appearing in
     THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS present in quite original ways the
     systems and philosophies of the great non-Christian religions.



_INTRODUCTORY_


The Book of the Dead may be described as the soul's _vade mecum_ in the
journey from this world. It prescribes the forms the soul must have at
command in order to ward off the dangers on the way to the underworld,
during residence in the world, and on the journey back.

The ancient Egyptians considered this book as inspired by the gods, who
caused their scribe, Thoth, to write it down. Every chapter is supposed
to exist for the sake of persons who have died. Sometimes chapters had
to be recited before the body was put down out of sight. Often a
chapter, or more than one, was inscribed on the coffin, or sarcophagus,
or mummy wrappings, this being thought a sure protection against foes of
every kind.

This collection has been chiefly found written on papyrus in
hieroglyphic or hieratic characters on coffins, mummies, sepulchral
wrappings, statues, and on the walls of tombs. Complete copies have been
found written on tombs of the time of the 26th Dynasty (about 800 B.C.).

There are many recensions, or editions, in the various libraries of
Europe and also in the East, and no two of them are identical in the
text. Lepsius translated from the Turin papyrus; Budge bases his
translations on what is called the Theban recension. But in all the text
is exceedingly corrupt, and translation is often no more than a guess.
Owing to the number of proper names and technical terms which we have no
means of understanding, it is often quite impossible to know the drift
of large paragraphs, and even of whole chapters. Since many of the
chapters were treated merely as having a magical efficacy either when
recited or when inscribed on something buried with the body, it was of
small consequence whether or not the words were understood. The bare
recital or writing of names of gods, etc., had a magical efficacy
according to the people who counted the Book of the Dead their sacred
scriptures.

As regards date, the greater number of the hymns and prayers were
recited by the people of Egypt on behalf of their deceased friends
before the first dynasty had begun to reign. Birch says before 3000 B.C.
The hymns and prayers were first of all preserved in the memory only,
and their number was at an early time but small. They were written down
when the priests had doubts with regard to the meaning of certain terms,
and wished to hand them on unimpaired to posterity, being influenced by
the belief that the words of this sacred book were, as such, magically
potent. The oldest extant papyrus containing the Book of the Dead
belongs to the 18th Dynasty, _i.e._, about 1500 B.C.; but we do not come
across a complete copy, with the chapters collected and set in order
much as they are to-day, until the 26th Dynasty (about the 7th century
B.C.). Previous to this the chapters seem to have been put together with
no regard to order; probably they existed on different papyri, which
were used as occasion required. Commonly they would be sold, and for
that purpose stored up.

The translations which can be recommended to students are those by
Renouf, with text and notes; Budge, with text and notes; and that by
C.H.S. Davis, U.S.A. (based on Pierre). All these editions include the
vignettes, which are very helpful in understanding the text.


_I.--THE SCRIBE ANI PLEADS WITH OSIRIS THROUGH THOTH FOR ADMISSION TO
THE UNDERWORLD AND FOR A SAFE EVIT (RESURRECTION)_


(Osiris)[1] Ani the Scribe says: Praise be to thee, Osiris Bull [so he
was often represented]. O Amentet [the lower world] the eternal king is
here to put words into my mouth. I am Thoth, the great god in the sacred
book, who fought for thee. I am one of the great gods that fought on
behalf of Osiris. Ra, the sun-God, commanded me--Thoth--to do battle on
the earth for the wronged Osiris, and I obeyed. I am among them moreover
who wait over Osiris, now king of the underworld.

I am with Horus, son of Osiris, on the day when the great feast of
Osiris is kept. I am the priest pouring forth libations at Tattu, I am
the prophet in Abydos. I am here, O ye that bring perfected souls into
the abode of Osiris, bring ye the perfected soul of (Osiris) the Scribe
Ani, into the blissful home of Osiris. Let him see, hear, stand, and sit
as ye do in the home of Osiris.

O ye who give cakes and ale to perfected souls, give ye at morn and at
eve cakes and ale to the soul of Ani the Scribe.

O ye who open the way and prepare the paths to the abode of Osiris, open
the way and prepare the path that the soul of (Osiris) Ani the Scribe
may enter in confidence and come forth [on the resurrection]
victoriously. May he not be turned back, may he enter and come forth;
for he has been weighed in the scale and is "not lacking."[2]


_II.--THE PRAYER OF ANI THE SCRIBE_


_The chapter about coming forth by day and living after death._

Says (Osiris) Ani: O thou, only shining one of the moon; let me,
departing from the crowd on earth, find entrance into the abode of
shades. Open then for me the door to the underworld, and at length let
me come back to earth and perform my part among men.

_A chapter whereby the funeral statuettes (Shabti) may be made to work
for a man in the underworld._[3]

O thou statuette there! If in the underworld I shall be called upon to
perform any tasks, be thou my representative and act for me--planting
and sowing fields, watering the soil and carrying the sands of East and
West.

_A chapter concerning the piercing of the back of Apepi._[4]

Tur, the overseer of the houses, says through his god Tmu: O thou wax
one[5] who takest thy victims captive and destroyest them, who preyest
upon the weak and helpless, may I never be thy victim; may I never
suffer collapse before thee. May the venom never enter my limbs, which
are as those of the god Tmu. O let not the pains of death, which have
reached thee; come upon me. I am the god Tmu, living in the foremost
part of Tur [the sky]. I am the only one in the primordial water. I have
many mysterious names, and provide myself a dwelling to endure millions
of years. I was born of Tmu, and I am safe and sound.

_About contending against fever with the shield of truth and good
conduct._

Says (Osiris) Ani: I go forth against my foes endowed with the defence
of truth and good conduct. I cross the heavens, and traverse the earth.
Though a denizen of the underworld, I tread the earth like one alive,
following in the footsteps of the blessed spirits. I have the gift of
living a million years. I eat with my mouth and chew with my jaw,
because I worship him who is master of the lower world.


_III.--NU PRAISES RA (THE SUN-GOD) FOR HIS ABILITY TO GO DOWN INTO THE
GRAVE AND RETURN TO EARTH THROUGH THE MAGIC USE OF THE SACRED TEXTS_


_About entering the underworld and coming forth therefrom._

Nu says: I cry aloud to thee, O Ra, thou guardian of the secret portals
of Seb [the grave], which leads to where Ra in the underworld holds the
balance which weighs every man's righteousness every day. I have burst
the earth [returned to earth]; grant that I may remain on to a good old
age.


_IV.--THE SPIRIT OF THE SCRIBE MESEMNETER PRAYS THAT SOME OFFENDED GOD
MAY BE CONCILIATED_


_About removing the anger of the god towards the departed one._

The scribe Mesemneter, chief deputy of Amon, says: Praise be to thee, O
God, who makest the moments to glide by, who guardest the secrets of the
life beyond that of the earth, and guidest me when I utter words. The
god is angered against me. But let my faults be wasted away, and let the
god of Right and Truth bear them upon me. Remove them wholly from me, O
god of Right and Truth. Let the offended one be at peace with me. Remove
the wall of separation from before us.

_A hymn to Ra at his rising and setting_.

(Osiris) the scribe says: Praise to thee, O Ra, when thou risest. Shine
thou upon my face. Let me arise with thee into the heavens, and travel
with thee in the boat wherein thou sailest on the clouds.

Thou passest in peace across the heavens, and art victorious over all
thy foes.

Praise to thee who art Ra when thou risest, and Tmu when in beauty thou
settest. The dwellers in the land of night come forth to see thee ascend
the sky. I, too, would join the throng; O let me not be held back.

_Hymn of praise to Osiris._

Praise be unto thee, Osiris, lord of eternity, who appearest in many
guises, and whose attributes are glorious.

Thou lookest towards the underworld and causest the earth to shine as
with gold.

The dead rise up to gaze on thy face; their hearts are at peace if they
but look on thee.


_V.--LITANY TO OSIRIS_


_Prayer_. Praise to thee, O lord of the starry gods of Annu, more
glorious than the gods hidden in Annu.

_Answer (repeated after each prayer)._ Grant thou me a peaceful life,
for I am truthful and just. I have uttered no falsehoods nor acted
deceitfully.

_Prayer_. Praise to thee, O Ani; with thy long strides movest thou
across the heavens.

_Prayer_. Praise to thee, O thou who art mighty in thy hour, great and
mighty prince, lord and creator of eternity.

_Prayer_. Praise to those whose throne is Right and Truth, who hatest
fraud and deceit.

_Prayer_. Praise to thee who bringest Hapi [the Nile]; in thy boat from
his source.

_Prayer_. Praise to thee, O creator of the gods, thou king of the North
and the South. O Osiris, the all-conquering one, ruler of the world,
lord of the heavens.


_VI.--HYMN OF PRAISE TO THE SETTING SUN_


_About the mystery of the underworld and about travelling through the
underworld._

When he sets on the underworld the gods adore him. The great god Ra
rises with two eyes [sun and moon]; all the seven gods (Kuas) welcome
him in the evening into the underworld. They sing his praises, calling
him Tmu. The deceased one says, "Praise be to thee, O Ra, praise be to
thee, O Tmu. Thou hast risen and put on strength, and thou settest in
glorious splendour into the underworld. Thou sailest in thy boat across
the heavens, and thou establisheth the earth. East and West adore thee,
bowing and doing homage to thee day and night."


_VII.--ABOUT THE RESURRECTION, OR THE COMING BACK TO LIFE (DAY), OF
DEPARTED SHADES._


[This is one of the oldest (cir. B.C. 2700) and most remarkable
chapters, though also one of the hardest to follow in its details. The
vignettes reproduced in the editions of Davis, Renouf, and Budge help
considerably in following the line of thought. An exact copy of this
chapter has been found on the tomb of Horhotep.

The soul of the deceased encounters all manner of obstacles and
opponents in the attempt to pass to the upper air, and he seeks
constantly the help of Ra, etc., that he may be victorious].

_Of the praises of entering the lower world and of coming out_.

(Osiris) the scribe Ani says it is a good and profitable thing on earth
for a man to recite this text, since all the words written herein shall
come to pass.

I am Ra, who at my rising rule all things. I am the great self-made god.

I am yesterday and to-morrow. I gave the command, and a scene of strife
among the gods arose [_i.e.,_ the sun awakened all the forces of Nature
into action]. What is this? It is Amentet, the underworld.

What is this? The horizon of my father Tmu [the setting sun]. All of my
failings are now supplied, my sins cleansed as I pass through the two
lakes which purify the offences which men offer the gods.

I advance on the path, descending to the realm of Osiris, passing
through the gate Teser. O all ye who have passed this way in safety, let
me grasp your hands and be brought to your abode.

O ye divine powers of Maert, the sworn foes of falsehood, may I come to
you.

I am the great Cat [_i.e.,_ Ra] himself, and therefore in his name which
I bear, I can tread on all my enemies. O great Ra, who climbest the
heavenly vaults and who sailest in thy boat across the firmament with
undisputed authority, do thou save me from that austere god whose
eyebrows are as menacing as the balance that weighs the deeds of men.
Save me, I pray thee, from these guardians of the passages who will, if
they-may, impede my progress. O Tmu, who livest in the august abode, god
of gods, who thrivest upon damned souls, thou dog-faced, human-skinned
one, devourer of shades, digester of human hearts, O fearful one, save
me from the great soul-foe who gnaws and destroys shades of men.

O Chepera in thy bark, save me from the testing guardians into whose
charge the glorious inviolate god has committed his foes; deliver thou
me. May these never undo me, may I never fall helpless into the chambers
of torture. O ye gods, in the presence of Osiris, reach, forth your
arms, for I am one of the gods in your midst.

The (Osiris) Ani flies away like a hawk, he clucks like a goose, he is
safe from destruction as the serpent Nehebkau. Avaunt, ye lions that
obstruct my path. O Ra, thou ascending one, let me rise with thee, and
have a triumphant arrival to my old earthly abode.


_VIII.--A LITANY ADDRESSED TO THOTH_


_The speech of Ammautef, the priest_:

I have come to you, ye gods of heaven, earth, and the underworld,
bringing with me Ani, the scribe, who has done no wrong against any
gods, so that ye may protect him and give him good-speed to the
underworld.

_The speech of Ani himself_:

Praise be to thee, O thou ruler of Amenta, Unneferu, who presides in
Abydos. I have come to thee with a pure heart, free from sin. I have
told no falsehoods nor acted deceitfully. Give thou me in the tomb the
food I need for the journey, so let me have a safe entrance to the
underworld and a sure exit.

_The speech of the priest Samerif:_

I come to the gods residing at Restau. I have brought you (Osiris) Ani;
grant him bread, water, and air, and also an abode in the Sechithotepu
[Field of Peace].

_The speech of Ani himself:_

Praise be to Osiris, everlasting lord, and to the gods of Restau. I come
to thee knowing thy goodwill and having learned those rites which thou
requirest for entrance into the lower world. May I have a safe arrival,
and find food in thy presence.

_Litany to Thoth:_

O thou who makest Osiris triumphant over his foes, make thou this scribe
Nebenseri victorious over his foes.

O Thoth, make Ani triumphant over his enemies, etc., etc.

[If this chapter is recited over the deceased he shall come forth into
the day and pass through the transformations which the departed one
desires.]


_IX.--A MAGICAL CHAPTER_


_Chapter of the Crown of Triumph_.

Thy father Tmu has made thee this beautiful crown as a magical charm so
that thou mayest live for ever. Thy father Seb gives thee his
inheritance. Osiris, the prince of Amenta, makes thee victorious over
thy foes. Go thou as Horus, son of Isis and Osiris, and triumph ever on
thy way to the underworld.

Yea (Osiris) Aufankh shall, through this recited text, live and triumph
for ever and ever. Horus repeated these words four times, and his
enemies fell headlong. And (Osiris) Aufankh has repeated these words
four times, so let him be victorious.

This chapter is to be recited over a consecrated crown placed over the
face of the deceased, and thou shalt cast incense into the flame on
behalf of (Osiris) Aufankh, so securing triumph over all his foes. And
food and drink shall in the underworld be reached him in the presence of
Osiris its king.

_Chapter about making the deceased remember his name in the underworld_.

Nu triumphant, son of Amen-hotep, says: Let me remember my name in the
great House below on the night when years are counted and months are
reckoned up. If any god come to me, let me at once be able to utter his
name[6] and thus disarm him.

_A chapter about not letting the heart of the deceased act against him
in the underworld_.

My heart, received from my mother, my heart, without which life on earth
was not possible, rise then not up against me in the presence of the
gods in the great day of judgment when human thoughts, words, and acts
shall all be weighed in a balance.

These words are to be inscribed on a hard green, gold-coated scarab,
which is to be inserted through the mouth into the bosom of the
deceased.

_Chapter about repelling the ass-eater_[7].

Avaunt! serpent Hai, impure one, hater of Osiris. Get thee back, for
Thoth has cut off thy head. Let alone the ass, that I may have clear
skies when I cross to the underworld in the Neshmet boat. I am guiltless
before the gods, and have wronged none. So avaunt! thou sun-beclouding
one, and let me have a prosperous voyage.

_Chapter about reserving for the deceased his seat in the underworld_.

Nu says: My seat, my throne, come ye to me, surround me, divine ones. I
am a mummy-shaped person. O grant that I may become like the great god,
successful, having seat and throne.

_A chapter about coming forth by day from the underworld_ (i.e., _the
resurrection_).

[One of the very oldest chapters in the Book of the Dead, as old at
least as the first dynasty, say 4500 B.C. No chapter was regarded with
greater reverence, or recited or copied with more confidence in its
efficacy, probably because it is a summing up of the important chapters
on the coming forth by day from the underworld. He who knows this
chapter by heart is safe against danger in this world and in all other
abodes.]

Nebseni, lord of reverence, says: I am yesterday and know to-morrow. I
am able to be born again. Here is the invisible force which creates gods
and gives food to denizens of the underworld. I go as a messenger to
Osiris.

O goddess Aucherit, grant that I may come forth from the underworld to
see Ra's blazing orb. O thou conductor of shades, let me have a fair
path to the underworld and a sure arrival. May I be defended against all
opposing powers. May the cycle of gods listen to me and grant my request

       *       *       *       *       *




BOOKS OF BRAHMANISM


_INTRODUCTORY_


     The religion of the ancient Persians and of the ancient Aryan
     Indians was at one time the same, and it is easy now to see
     the common basis of the beliefs and practices embodied in the
     Hindu Vedas and the Zend Avesta (see ZOROASTRIANISM), and
     their general resemblance. The religion of the ancient Aryan
     Indians has passed through three outstanding phases,
     designated by modern scholars: Vedism, or that taught by the
     Vedas; Brahmanism, based on the Brahmans, or ritual additions
     to the Vedas; and Hinduism (_q.v._), the form which revived
     Brahmanism took after the expulsion of Buddhism. Though the
     latter is strictly an Indian religion, judged by its origin
     and characteristic features, it has for centuries almost
     ceased to exist in India proper. It will be found generally
     true that in Brahmanism there is, as compared with Vedism, an
     increase of the ritual, and a corresponding decrease of the
     moral element. The gods become more material, and the means of
     conciliating them ceremonial and magical. So also there is a
     growth in the power of the priesthood. One may compare this
     with the course of development among the Hebrews--the ritual
     and ceremonial bulking more and more, and the ethical
     receding, according to most modern scholars. It has to be
     remembered carefully, however, that the distinction between
     Vedism, Brahmanism, and Hinduism is more logical than actual.
     The seeds of Hinduism, even the doctrine of caste, may be
     traced in the Rig Veda, and a modern orthodox. Hindu will tell
     you that his principal scriptures are the Vedas, and that his
     creed and practice have their source in these scriptures.
     Brahmanism may be represented as a system of law and custom in
     the Laws of Manu; as a philosophy in the Upanishads; and as a
     mythology in the Ramayana and Mahabharata.


MAHABHARATA


The word "Mahabharata" means "The Great Bharata," the name of a
well-known people in ancient India. The epic so called is a very long
one, containing at least 220,000 lengthy lines. It is really an
encyclopaedia of Hindu history, legend, mythology, and philosophy.
Four-fifths of the poem consist of episodes, some of them very
beautiful, as the tale of Nala and his wife Damayanti. These have no
primary connection with the original, though they are worked in so
deftly as to make the whole appear a splendid unity. For pathos,
sublimity, and matchless language, no poem in the world exceeds this
one.

It is arranged in eighteen books, all of which claim to have been
composed by Vyasa--another name for the god Krishna--who is said also in
the course of the epic to have composed the Vedas and the Puranas. This
is, of course, mythology, and not literary history.

The historical nucleus underlying this poem is the conflict which raged
in ancient India between two neighbouring tribes, the Kurus (or
Kauravas) and the Pandavas. But this is worked up into another long tale
into which and around which Brahman teachers and philosophers have woven
a very network of religious, theosophic, and philosophic speculation.
The tale is, in fact, made a vehicle for teaching Brahman ism as it
existed in India in the first five centuries of our era, though much of
the Mahabharata goes back to a thousand years or so B.C.


_OUTLINE OF THE EPIC_


The descendants of Bharata, the king of Hastinapura, about sixty miles
north of Delhi, were divided into two branches, the Kauravas and the
Pandavas, each of which occupied the territory which had come down to it
by inheritance. They lived together in peace and prosperity, worshipping
the gods, studying the Vedas, and spending much time in meditation about
higher things. But there came a change for the worse. The Kauravas, not
content with their own territory, looked with jealous eyes upon that of
their kinsmen, the Pandavas. Soon their covetousness realised itself in
action, for gathering their armed men together, they sprang suddenly
upon the land of their neighbours, whom they disarmed previously by
professions of friendship and goodwill The Pandavas were conquered and
driven into a far country, where they wandered homelessly and yet filled
with undying love for the old home of their fathers and with a resolve
to regain at the first opportunity their ancestral territory.

With the help of as many princes and generals as they could win to their
side they marched towards the land which they had lost, taking back by
force what had been wrested from them by force. The two armies met face
to face on the field of Kurukshetra (land of the Kurus), and the battle,
which lasted eighteen days, was about to begin. The father and king of
the Kauravas, called Dhritarashtra, aged and blind, felt that he could
not stand to witness the bloody affray. He accordingly accepted the
offer of Vyasa (Krishna), a relative of both the contending parties, to
have the entire course of events described to him when all was over, one
Sangara, being deputed to perform the task. The battle began and
proceeded for ten long days when Bhrisma, the chief general of the
Kauravas, fell.

At this point Sangara advanced to the old King Dhritarashtra to acquaint
him with the course things had taken, and among the rest to recite to
him a conversation which had taken place between Krishna and Arguna, the
Pandavan prince and general. It is this dialogue which constitutes the
Holy Song, known as the Bhagavad-Gita, or Krishna Song, the Krishna of
this philosophic poem being, of course, the eighth avatara; or
incarnation, of Vishnu.

The remaining books of the Mahabharata recount the subsequent incidents
of the war, which, in all, lasted for eighteen days. The Kauravas were
destroyed, the only survivors being the Pandavas and Krishna with his
charioteer. The many dead that were left on the field were buried with
the rites of religion, and amid many signs of touching affection and
grief.

Bhrisma, leader of the Kauravas, instructs Yudhishthira on the duties of
kings and other topics. The poem then ends.


THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, OR HOLY SONG OF BRAHMANISM


This poem forms one of the finest episodes in the great Iliad of India,
and, in fact, is hardly surpassed for profound thought, deep feeling,
and exquisite phrasing, in the whole literature of India. Telang holds
that the song is at least as old as the 4th century, and is inclined to
regard it as an original part of the epic. According to most scholars,
however, the "Divine Song" was added at a later period, and, in fact, in
its present form it is scarcely older than 500 A.D. It is so thoroughly
Brahmanic in its teaching that there can be little doubt but that this
song was introduced in order to convey the teaching of Brahmanism
prevalent at the time. The German scholar, Dr. Lorinser, has tried to
prove that the author of this song had a knowledge of the New Testament
and used it. The following passages are pointed out by him as dependent
on New Testament passages.


BHAGAVAD-GITA

    I am exceedingly dear to the
    wise man; he also is dear
    to me.

    I am the way, supporter,
    lord, witness, abode, refuge,
    friend.

    I never depart from him (the
    true Yogis); he never departs
    from me.

    They who worship me with
    true devotion, are in me
    and I in them.

    Be assured that he who worships
    me perishes not.

    I am the beginning and the
    middle and the end of existent
    things.

    I will deliver thee from all
    sin; do not grieve.

    He who knows me as unborn
    and without beginning, the
    mighty Lord of the World,
    he among mortals is undeluded,
    he is delivered from
    all sins.

    What sacrifice, almsgiving, or
    austerity is done without
    faith is evil.

    That man obtains the perfect
    state who honours by his
    proper work him from
    whom all things have issued,
    and by whom this All
    was spread out.


NEW TESTAMENT

    He that loveth Me shall be
    loved of My Father, and I
    will love him (John xiv.
    21).

    I am the way, the truth, and
    the life (John xiv. 6) I am
    the first and the last (Rev.
    i. 17).

    He that dwelleth in Me and I
    in Him (John vi. 56).

    I in them and thou in Me,
    that they may be made perfect
    in one (John xvii. 23).

    Whosoever believeth in Him
    shall not perish, but have
    everlasting life (John iii.
    16).

    I am Alpha and Omega, the
    beginning and ending (Rev.
    i. 8).

    Son, be of good cheer; thy
    sins be forgiven thee (Matt.
    ix. 2).

    This is life eternal, that they
    might know Thee, the only
    true God, and Jesus Christ,
    Whom Thou hast sent (John
    xvii, 3).

    Whatsover is not of faith is
    sin (Rom. xiv. 23).

    Whether therefore ye eat or
    drink, or whatsoever ye do,
    do all to the glory of God
    (1 Cor. x. 31).


_OUTLINE OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA_


The blind old father of the Kauravas asked Sangara to tell him how the
battle had gone. He replied that, just as the fighting began, Krishna,
the Heaven-Born One, stationed his glorious chariot between the armies
and entered into a long conversation, with Arguna, the prince-general of
the Pandavas. Said Arguna, "My grief at seeing these kindred peoples at
war is beyond bearing, and the omens are unfavourable. I long not for
victory, but for peace and for the prosperity of all. Behold, in battle
array grandfathers, fathers, sons, friends, and allies. We have resolved
to commit a great sin, to slay our kindred and associates, and all for
lust of wealth and power."

The Holy One (Krishna) said in reply, "Thou grievest for those who need
no grief of thine; yet are thy words words of wisdom. The wise have no
grief for dead or living; know thou, O Arguna, that the man who has
knowledge of the Eternal and Absolute One will never more be born, nor
will he know death. As one puts away an old used garment, putting on a
new one, so the self in a man puts away the old body and assumes one
that is new. He, the Everlasting One, is unchanging and inconceivable.
Be not thou grieved and have no fear. If slain in the battle, thou shalt
reach endless bliss in heaven. If victorious, thou shalt have happiness
on the earth; get thee, therefore, honoured one, to the fight and have
no care for pleasure or pain.

"Some obtain comfort from what the Vedas promise with reference to
eternal bliss. But these very Vedas teach that a man should strive at
self-mortification and advancement in virtue with no regard to any
reward. The final good after which men are chiefly to aim is a state of
supreme indifference and contempt."

"But," asked Arguna, "what, pray, is that state of equipoise of spirit
which thou urgest?"

Said the Holy One, "There is a twofold law: that of Sankhyas, or
intellectual devotion, and that of Yogis, or practical devotion. Men
must strive after the highest knowledge, that of Brahma, and also seek
after right conduct." "What," asked Arguna, "is the cause of sin?" To
which the Holy One replied, "Love and hatred, for hatred is begotten of
love, and ignorance of moral distinctions and of anger; from all this
comes unreasonableness and resulting ruin. A man's knowledge carries
always with it desire, as the fire smoke. The senses are great, the mind
is greater, and the intellect still greater, but the greatest of all is
the Eternal Essence, Brahma.

"Many," said the Holy One, "are my births, and I know them; many too,
are thine, but thou knowest them not. I am born from age to age for the
defence of the virtuous and the undoing of the wicked. He who believes
in my divine birth and work has no second birth, but enters me and
abides with me for ever. Know me as the creator of the cates, know me
also as the Eternal one that creates nothing. Faith brings with it
knowledge, and knowledge contentment. Without knowledge and faith the
soul is lost."

Arguna asked, "How fares it with the man who is not able to suppress his
lower instincts and to undergo the discipline of Yogis? Is he for this,
to be undone for ever?"

"No," replied the Holy One, "neither in this world nor in the next is he
lost. The virtuous man does not enter an evil state. He reaches that
heaven provided for all the good, and is born thereafter with higher
moral capacities, with which, and by means of the knowledge gained in
his previous existence, he rises to greater perfection; so that after
many births he reaches absolute perfection and is united for ever with
Brahma. But learn thou my higher nature; what thou seest is my lower,
for I am divine and human. All the world came forth from me, and I will
at the last destroy it. Higher than I does not exist. I am taste, light,
moon, sun; I am the mystic OM; I am the mystic seed from which all
things grow. He that offers sacrifice to inferior gods goes after death
to those gods, but they that worship me come to me."

"What," asked Arguna, "is Brahma, the supreme spirit, the supreme
sacrifice?"

The Holy One answered, "He is the Supreme, the Indestructible One; I am
the Supreme Sacrifice in my present body.

"Hear now, Son of Pritha," said the Holy One. "If thy heart be fixed on
me, and thou seekest refuge in me, thou shalt know me fully, and I shall
reveal to thee the perfect knowledge of God and man. There are countless
myriads of men in this world, but few there are who seek after
perfection, and fewer still there are who obtain it."


_OTHER PARTS OF THE MAHABHARATA_


Though the husband die unhappy on account of his wife's ill-treatment
and disobedience, yet if she consign herself to the flames after his
death she is deserving of great praise. How much more should a woman be
venerated who flings herself of her own accord into the flames after the
death of a husband whom she has treated with affection and submission!

Let gifts be avoided; for receiving them is a sin. The silkworm dies of
its riches.

It is not proper to rebuke or even blame wrong acts of gods or priests
or seers; though no one is justified in following them in these acts.

Virtue is better than everlasting life; kingdom, sons, renown, and
wealth all put together do not make up one-sixteenth part of the value
of virtue.

The greatest sin that a king can commit is atoned for by sacrifices
accompanied with large gifts [cows, etc.] to the priests.

       *       *       *       *       *



SIR THOMAS BROWNE


RELIGIO MEDICI


     Sir Thomas Browne, English essayist, came of a Cheshire
     family, but was born in London on October 19, 1605. Educated
     at Oxford, where he graduated in 1626, he next studied
     medicine at the great universities of Montpelier, Padua, and
     Leyden, and in 1637 went to live at Norwich, where he remained
     until his death on October 19, 1682. He was happily married in
     1641, and was knighted by Charles II. in 1671. Sir Thomas
     Browne is one of the greatest figures in English literary
     history. He had extraordinary learning, a magnificent style, a
     certain dry humour, and, above all, great power and nobility
     of mind. In his two most valued works, "Religio Medici," or
     "Religion of a Physician," published in 1643, and "Urn
     Burial," in 1658, he deals with the greatest of all themes,
     the mysteries of faith and of human destiny. The "Religio
     Medici," written about 1635, was not at first intended for
     publication; but the manuscript had been handed about and
     copied, and the appearance, in 1642, of private editions,
     forced the author to issue it himself.


_I.--THE BROAD-MINDED CHRISTIAN_


For my religion I dare, without usurpation, assume the honourable style
of a Christian. Not that I merely owe this title to the font, my
education, or the clime wherein I was born; but that having, in my riper
years and confirmed judgment, seen and examined all, I find myself
obliged, by the principles of grace and the law of mine own reason, to
embrace no other name but this.

But, because the name of a Christian is become too general to express
our faith--there being a geography of religion as well as lands--I am of
that reformed new-cast religion, wherein I dislike nothing but the name:
of the same belief our Saviour taught, the apostles disseminated, the
fathers authorised, and the martyrs confirmed; but, by the sinister ends
of princes, the ambition and avarice of prelates, and the fatal
corruption of the times, so decayed, impaired, and fallen from its
native beauty, that it required the careful and charitable hands of
these times to restore it to its primitive integrity.

Yet do I not stand at sword's point with those who had rather
promiscuously retain all than abridge any, and obstinately be what they
are than what they have been. We have reformed from them, not against
them, for there is between us one common name and appellation, one faith
and necessary body of principles common to us both; and therefore I am
not scrupulous to converse and live with them, to enter their churches
in defect of ours, and either pray with them or for them.

I am naturally inclined to that which misguided zeal terms superstition;
at my devotion I love to use the civility of my knee, my hat, my hand,
with all those outward and sensible motions which may express or promote
my invisible devotion. At the sight of a crucifix I can dispense with my
hat, but scarce with the thought or memory of my Saviour. I could never
hear the Ave-Mary bell without an oraison, or think it a sufficient
warrant, because they erred in one circumstance, for me to err in
all--that is, in silence and dumb contempt.

I could never divide myself from any man upon the difference of an
opinion; I have no genius to disputes in religion. A man may be in as
just possession of truth as of a city, and yet be forced to surrender;
'tis therefore far better to enjoy her with peace than to hazard her
upon a battle. If, therefore, there rise any doubts in my way, I do
forget them, or at least defer them, till my better settled judgment be
able to resolve them. In philosophy, where truth seems double-faced,
there is no man more paradoxical than myself; but in divinity I love to
keep the road, and, though not in an implicit, yet an humble, faith
follow the great wheel of the Church.

Heads that are disposed unto schism, and complexionally propense to
innovation, are naturally indisposed for a community, nor will be ever
confined unto the order or economy of one body; and, therefore, when
they separate from others, they knit but loosely among themselves; nor
contented with a general breach or dichotomy with their church, do
subdivide and mince themselves almost into atoms.

As for those wingy mysteries in divinity and airy subtleties in religion
which have unhinged the brains of better heads, they have never
stretched the membranes of mine. Methinks there be not impossibilities
enough in religion for an active faith; I love to lose myself in a
mystery, to pursue my reason to an _O altitudo!_ I can answer all the
objections of Satan and my rebellious reason with that odd resolution of
Tertullian: "It is certain because it is impossible."


_II.--THE DIVINE WISDOM_


In my solitary and retired imagination I remember I am not alone; and
therefore forget not to contemplate Him and His attributes who is ever
with me, especially those two mighty ones, His wisdom and eternity. With
the one I recreate, with the other I confound, my understanding; for who
can speak of eternity without a solecism, or think thereof without an
ecstasy?

In this mass of Nature there is a set of things that carry in their
front, though not in capital letters, yet in stenography and short
characters, something of divinity; which, to wiser reasons, serve as
luminaries in the abyss of knowledge, and to judicious beliefs as scales
to mount the pinnacles of divinity.

That other attribute wherewith I recreate my devotion is His wisdom, in
which I am happy; and for the contemplation of this only, do not repent
me that I was bred in the way of study. The advantage I have of the
vulgar, with the content and happiness I conceive therein, is an ample
recompense for all my endeavours in what part of knowledge soever.
Wisdom is His most beauteous attribute; no man can attain unto it; yet
Solomon pleased God when he desired it. He is wise because He knows all
things; and He knows all things because He made them all; but His
greatest knowledge is in comprehending that He made not--that is,
Himself. The wisdom of God receives small honour from those heads that
rudely stare about, and with a gross rusticity admire His works. Those
highly magnify Him whose judicious inquiry into His acts, and a
deliberate research into His creatures, return the duty of a devout and
learned admiration. Every essence, created or uncreated, hath its final
cause and some positive end both of its essence and operation. This is
the cause I grope after in the works of Nature; on this hangs the
providence of God.

That Nature does nothing in vain is the only indisputable axiom in
philosophy. There are no grotesques in Nature, nor anything framed to
fill up unnecessary spaces. I could never content my contemplation with
those general pieces of wonder, the flux and reflux of the sea, the
increase of the Nile, the conversion of the needle to the north; but
have studied to match and parallel those in the more obvious and
neglected pieces of Nature which, without further travel, I find in the
cosmography of myself. We carry with us the wonders we seek without us;
there is all Africa and her prodigies in us.

Thus there are two books from whence I collect my divinity: besides that
written one of God, another of His servant, Nature, that universal and
public manuscript, that lies expansed unto the eyes of all. Surely the
heathens knew better how to join and read these mystical letters than we
Christians, who cast a more careless eye on these common hieroglyphics,
and disdain to suck divinity from the flowers of Nature. Now, Nature is
not at variance with art, nor art with Nature, they being both the
servants of His providence. Art is the perfection of Nature. Nature hath
made one world, and art another. In brief, all things are artificial,
for Nature is the art of God.

This is the ordinary and open way of His providence, which art and
industry have in good part discovered, whose effects we may foretell
without an oracle. But there is another way, full of meanders and
labyrinths, and that is a more particular and obscure method of His
providence, directing the operations of individual and single essences.
This we call fortune, that serpentine and crooked line whereby He draws
those actions His wisdom intends in a more unknown and secret way.

This cryptic and involved method of His providence have I ever admired;
nor can I relate the history of my life, the occurrences of my days, the
escapes, or dangers, and hits of chance, with a bare grammercy to my
good stars. Surely there are in every man's life certain rubs,
doublings, and wrenches, which pass a while under the effects of chance;
but at the last, well examined, prove the mere hand of God. 'Twas not
dumb chance that, to discover the fougade, or powder plot, contrived a
miscarriage in the letter. I like the victory of '88 the better for that
one occurrence which our enemies imputed to our dishonour and the
partiality of fortune: to wit, the tempests and contrariety of winds.

There is no liberty for causes to operate in a loose and straggling way,
nor any effect whatever but hath its warrant from some universal or
superior cause. 'Tis not a ridiculous devotion to say a prayer before a
game at tables; for even in sortileges and matters of greatest
uncertainty there is a settled and pre-ordered course of effects. It is
we that are blind, not fortune. Because our eye is too dim to discover
the mystery of her effects, we foolishly paint her blind, and hoodwink
the providence of the Almighty.

'Tis, I confess, the common fate of men of singular gifts of mind to be
destitute of those of fortune; which doth not any way deject the spirit
of wiser judgments, who thoroughly understand the justice of this
proceeding; and, being enriched with higher donatives, cast a more
careless eye on these vulgar parts of felicity. It is a most unjust
ambition to desire to engross the mercies of the Almighty.

I have heard some with deep sighs lament the lost lines of Cicero;
others with as many groans deplore the combustion of the library of
Alexandria; for my own part, I think there be too many in the world, and
could with patience behold the urn and ashes of the Vatican, could I,
with a few others, recover the perished leaves of Solomon. Some men have
written more than others have spoken. Of those three great inventions in
Germany, there are two which are not without their incommodities. Tis
not a melancholy wish of my own, but the desires of better heads, that
there were a general synod--not to unite the incompatible difference of
religion, but for the benefit of learning, to reduce it, as it lay at
first, in a few and solid authors; and to condemn to the fire those
swarms and millions of rhapsodies, begotten only to distract and abuse
the weaker judgments of scholars and to maintain the trade and mystery
of typographers.

As all that die in the war are not termed soldiers, so neither can I
properly term all those that suffer in matters of religion, martyrs.
There are many, questionless, canonised on earth that shall never be
saints in heaven, and have their names in histories and martyrologies
who, in the eyes of God, are not so perfect martyrs as was that wise
heathen Socrates, that suffered on a fundamental point of religion--the
unity of God. The leaven and ferment of all, not only civil but
religious actions, is wisdom; without which to commit ourselves to the
flames is homicide, and, I fear, but to pass through one fire into
another.


_III.--THE HOPE OF IMMORTALITY_


I thank God I have not those strait ligaments or narrow obligations to
the world as to dote on life or tremble at the name of death. Not that I
am insensible of the horror thereof, or, by raking into the bowels of
the deceased and continual sight of anatomies, I have forgot the
apprehension of mortality; but that, marshalling all the horrors, I find
not anything therein able to daunt the courage of a man, much less a
well-resolved Christian. Were there not another life that I hope for,
all the vanities of this world should not entreat a moment's breath from
me. Those strange and mystical transmigrations that I have observed in
silkworms turned my philosophy into divinity. There is in these works of
Nature which seem to puzzle reason, something divine, that hath more in
it than the eye of a common spectator doth discover.

Some, upon the courage of a fruitful issue, wherein, as in the truest
chronicle, they seem to outlive themselves, can with greater patience
away with death. This seems to me a mere fallacy, unworthy the desires
of a man that can but conceive a thought of the next world; who, in a
nobler ambition, should desire to live in his substance in heaven rather
than his name and shadow in the earth. Were there any hopes to outlive
vice, or a point to be superannuated from sin, it were worthy our knees
to implore the days of Methuselah. But age doth not rectify but brings
on incurable vices, and the number of our days doth but make our sins
innumerable. There is but one comfort left, that though it be in the
power of the weakest arm to take away life, it is not in the strongest
to deprive us of death.

There is no happiness within this circle of flesh, nor is it in the
optics of these eyes to behold felicity. But besides this literal and
positive kind of death, there are others whereof divines make mention,
as mortification, dying unto sin and the world. In these moral
acceptations, the way to be immortal is to die daily; and I have
enlarged that common "Remember death" into a more Christian
memorandum--"Remember the four last things"--death, judgment, heaven,
and hell. I believe that the world grows near its end; but that general
opinion, that the world grows near its end, hath possessed all ages past
as nearly as ours.

There is no road or ready way to virtue; it is not an easy point of art
to disentangle ourselves from this riddle or web of sin. To perfect
virtue, as to religion, there is required a panoplia, or complete
armour; that whilst we lie at close ward against one vice, we lie not
open to the assault of another. There go so many circumstances to piece
up one good action that it is a lesson to be good, and we are forced to
be virtuous by the book.

Insolent zeals that do decry good works, and rely only upon faith, take
not away merit; for, depending upon the efficacy of their faith, they
enforce the condition of God, and in a more sophistical way do seem to
challenge heaven. I do not deny but that true faith is not only a mark
or token, but also a means, of our salvation; but, where to find this is
as obscure to me as my last end. If a faith to the quantity of a grain
of mustard seed is able to remove mountains, surely that which we boast
of is not anything, or, at the most, but a remove from nothing.

For that other virtue of charity, without which faith is a mere notion
and of no existence, I have ever endeavoured to nourish the merciful
disposition and humane inclination I borrowed from my parents, and
regulate it to the written and prescribed laws of charity. I give no
alms to satisfy the hunger of my brother, but to fulfil the command of
my God; I draw not my purse for his sake that demands it, but His that
enjoined it. Again, it is no greater charity to clothe his body than to
apparel the nakedness of his soul; and to this, as calling myself a
scholar, I am obliged by the duty of my condition.

Bless me in this life with but the peace of my conscience; command of my
affections the love of Thyself and my dearest friends; and I shall be
happy enough to pity Caesar! These are, O Lord, the humble desires of my
most reasonable ambition, and all I dare call happiness on earth:
wherein I set no limit to Thy hand or providence; dispose of me
according to the wisdom of Thy pleasure. Thy will be done, though in my
own undoing.

       *       *       *       *       *



JOHN CALVIN


INSTITUTION OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION


     John Calvin was born on July 10, 1509, at Noyon, in Picardy,
     Northern France. Although the Calvins, his ancestors, had been
     bargemen on the Oise, his father was notary apostolic,
     procurator-fiscal of the county, clerk of the church court,
     and diocesan secretary. Young Jean Calvin was eight years old
     when Luther nailed his theses to the door of the castle church
     in Wittenburg. The new religion gaining very quickly a footing
     in France, the youth became influenced by it when studying in
     Paris at the College de la Marche. He held meetings with
     Protestants in a cave at Poitiers. His precocity was
     remarkable. At the age of twenty-three he wrote his first
     book, a commentary on Seneca's "Treatise on Clemency." At
     twenty-five he revised a translation of the French Bible. At
     twenty-seven he published the first edition of his mighty
     work, "The Institution of the Christian Religion," a treatise
     which has been styled "one of the landmarks of the history of
     Christian doctrine." At twenty-eight Calvin was the foremost
     man in Geneva, and was already one of the most remarkable
     reformers in the world. His career has rarely been paralleled.
     Calvin died on May 27, 1564.


_I.--THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD THE CREATOR_


Our wisdom consists almost exclusively of two parts: the knowledge of
God, and of ourselves. But, as these are connected together by many
ties, it is not easy to determine which of the two precedes, and which
gives birth to the others. Our weakness, ignorance, and depravity remind
us that in the Lord, and in none but Him only, dwell the two lights of
wisdom, of virtue, and of piety. It is evident that man never attains to
a true self-knowledge until after he has contemplated the face of God,
and come down after such contemplation to look into himself.

It is beyond dispute that there exists in the human mind, and indeed by
natural instinct, some sense of deity. As Cicero, though a pagan, tells
us, there is no nation so brutish as not to be imbued with the
conviction that there is a God. Even idolatry is an evidence of this
fact. But, though experience teaches that a seed of religion is divinely
sown in all, few cherish it in the heart. Some lose themselves in
superstitious observances; others, of set purpose, wickedly revolt from
God; and many think of God against their will, never approaching Him
without being dragged into His presence.

But since the perfection of blessedness consists in the knowledge of
God, He has been pleased not only to deposit in our minds the seed of
religion, of which we have already spoken, but so to manifest His
perfections in the whole structure of the universe, and daily place
Himself in our view, that we cannot open our eyes without being
compelled to behold Him. His essence is, indeed, transcendent and
incomparable, but on each of His works His glory is engraven in
characters so bright that none, however dull and illiterate, can plead
ignorance as an excuse.

Herein appears the shameful ingratitude of men, that, though they have
in their own persons a factory where countless operations of God are
carried on, instead of praising Him, they are the more inflated with
pride. How few are there among us who, in lifting our eyes to the
heavens, or looking abroad on the earth, ever think of the Creator! In
vain, because of our dulness, does creation exhibit so many bright lamps
lit up to show forth the glory of its Author. Therefore, another and
better help must be given to guide us properly to God as our Creator,
and He has added the light of His Word in order to make known His
salvation.

Here it seems proper to make some observations on the authority of
Scripture. Nothing can be more absurd than the fiction that the power of
judging Scripture is in the Church. When the Church gives it the stamp
of her authority, she does not thus make it authentic, but shows her
reverence for it as the truth of God by her unhesitating assent.
Scripture bears, on the face of it, as clear evidence of its truth as
black and white do of their colour, sweet and bitter of their taste. It
is preposterous to attempt, by discussion, to rear up a full faith in
Scripture. Those who are inwardly taught by the Holy Spirit acquiesce in
it implicitly, for it carries with it its own testimony.

It is foolish to attempt to prove to infidels that the Scripture is the
Word of God. For it cannot be known to be, except by faith. Justly does
Augustine remind us that every man who would have any understanding in
such high matters must previously possess piety and mental peace. In
order to direct us to the true God, the Scripture excludes all the gods
of the heathen. This exclusiveness annihilates every deity which men
frame for themselves, of their own accord. Whence had idols their
origin, but from the will of man?

There was thus ground for the sarcasm of the heathen poet (Horace,
Satires, I.8). "I was once the trunk of a fig-tree, a useless log, when
the tradesman, uncertain whether he should make me a stool, etc., chose
rather that I should be a god." In regard to the origin of idols, the
statement of the Book of Wisdom has been received with almost universal
consent, that they originated with those who bestowed this honour on the
dead, from a superstitious regard to their memory.


_II.--THE GRACE OF CHRIST THE REDEEMER_


Through the fall of Adam arose the need of a Redeemer, the whole human
race having by that event been made accursed and degenerate. Man thereby
became deprived of freedom of will and miserably enslaved. The dominion
of sin, ever since the first man was brought under it, not only extends
to the whole race, but has complete possession of every soul. Free will
does not enable any man to perform good works unless he is assisted by
grace. Yet, since man is by nature a social being, he is disposed, from
natural instinct, to cherish and preserve society; and, accordingly, we
see that the minds of all men have impressions of order and civil
honesty. So that, in regard to the constitution of the present life, no
man is devoid of the light of reason. And this gift ought justly to be
ascribed to the divine indulgence. Had God not so spared us, our revolt
would have carried with it the entire destruction of nature. But to the
great truth, what God is in Himself, and what He is in relation to us,
human reason makes not the least approach. The natural man has no
capacity for such sublime wisdom as to apprehend God, unless illumined
by His Spirit, and none can enter the kingdom of God save those whose
minds have been renewed by the power of the spirit.

It is certain that after the fall of our first parent, no knowledge of
God without a Mediator was effectual to salvation. Hence it is that God
never showed Himself propitious to His ancient people, nor gave them any
hope of grace without a Mediator. The prosperous and happy state of the
Church was always founded in the person of Christ. The primary adoption
of the chosen people depended on the grace of the Mediator, and Christ
was always held forth to the holy fathers under the law as the object of
their faith.

It deeply concerns us that He who was to become our Mediator should be
very God and very man. The work to be by Him performed was of no common
description, being to restore us to the divine favour so as to make us
sons of God and heirs of the heavenly kingdom. In Him the divinity was
so conjoined with the humanity that the entire properties of each nature
remained entire, and yet the two natures constitute only one Christ.
Everything needful for us exists in Christ.

When we see that the whole sum of our salvation, and every single part
of it, are comprehended in Christ, we must beware of deriving even the
minutest part of it from any other quarter. If we seek salvation, we are
taught by the very name of Jesus that He possesses it; if we seek any
other gifts of the Spirit, we shall find them in His unction; strength
in His permanent government; purity in His conception; indulgence in His
nativity, in which He was made like us in all respects, in order that He
might learn to sympathise with us; if we seek redemption we shall find
it in His passion; acquittal in His condemnation; remission of the curse
in His cross; satisfaction in His sacrifice; purification in His blood;
reconciliation in His descent into hell; mortification of the flesh in
His sepulchre; newness of life in His resurrection; immortality also in
His resurrection; the inheritance of a celestial kingdom in His entrance
into heaven; protection, security, and the abundant supply of all
blessings, in His kingdom; secure anticipation of judgment in the power
of judging committed to Him. In fine, since in Him blessings are
treasured up, let us draw a full supply from Him, and none from another
quarter.


_III.--THE MERIT OF CHRIST AS OUR SAVIOUR_


It may be proved both from reason and from Scripture that the grace of
God and the merit of Christ (the Prince and Author of our salvation) are
perfectly compatible. Christ is not only the minister, but also the
cause of our salvation, and divine grace is not obscured by this
expression. Christ, by His obedience, truly merited this divine grace
for us, which was obtained by the shedding of His blood, and His
obedience even unto death, whereby He paid our ransom.

It is by the secret operation of the Holy Spirit that we enjoy Christ
and all His benefits. In Christ the Mediator the gifts of the Holy
Spirit are to be seen in all their fulness. As salvation is perfected in
the person of Christ, so, in order to make us partakers of it, He
"baptizes us with the Holy Spirit and with fire," enlightening us into
the faith of His Gospel, and so regenerating us to be new creatures.
Thus cleansed from all pollution, He dedicates us as holy temples to the
Lord.

But here it is proper to consider the nature of faith. The true
knowledge of Christ consists in receiving Him as He is offered by the
Father, namely, as invested with His Gospel. There is an inseparable
relation between faith and the Word, and these can no more be
disconnected from each other than rays of light from the sun. John
points to this fountain of faith thus: "To-day, if ye will hear His
voice," to "hear" being uniformly taken for to "believe." Take away the
Word and no faith will remain. Hence Paul designates faith as the
obedience which is given to the Gospel.

The mere assent of the intellect to the Word is, according to some, the
faith insisted on in Scripture, but this is a mere fiction. Such as thus
define faith do not duly ponder the saying of Paul, "With the heart man
believeth unto righteousness." Assent itself is more a matter of the
heart than the head, of the affection than the intellect.


_IV.--OF REPENTANCE_


Repentance follows faith and is produced by it. In the conversion of the
life to God we require a transformation not only in external works, but
in the soul itself, which is able only after it has put off its old
habits to bring forth fruits conformable to its renovation. Repentance
proceeds from a sincere fear of God, and it consists of two parts, the
mortification of the flesh and the quickening of the spirit. Both of
these we obtain by union with Christ. If we are partakers in His
resurrection we are raised up by means of it to newness of life, which
conforms us to the righteousness of God. In one word, then, by
repentance I understand regeneration, the only aim of which is to form
us anew in the image of God, which was sullied and all but effaced by
the transgression of Adam.

The apostle, in his description of repentance (2 Corinthians vii. 2),
enumerates seven causes, effects, or parts belonging to it. These are
carefulness, excuse, indignation, fear, desire, zeal, revenge. I stop
not to consider whether these are causes or effects; both views may be
maintained. The penitent will be careful not in future to offend God; in
his excuses he will trust, not to his own apologies, but to Christ's
intercession; his indignation will be directed against his own
iniquities; his fear will be lest he cause God displeasure; his desire
is equivalent to alacrity in duty; zeal will follow; and revenge will be
practised in the censure passed on his own sins.


_V.--OF JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH_


A man is said to be justified in the sight of God when, in the judgment
of God, he is deemed righteous, and is accepted on account of his
righteousness. So we interpret justification as the acceptance with
which God receives us into His favour as if we were righteous; and we
say that this justification consists in the forgiveness of sins and the
imputation of the righteousness to Christ. Since many imagine a
righteousness compounded of faith and works, let it be noted that there
is so wide a difference between justification by faith and by works that
one necessarily overthrows the other. If we destroy the righteousness by
faith by establishing our own righteousness, then, in order to obtain
His righteousness, our own must be entirely abandoned. The Gospel
differs from the law in this, that it entirely places justification in
the mercy of God and does not confine it to works. It is entirely by the
intervention of Christ's righteousness that we obtain justification
before God.

The doctrine of Christian liberty is founded on this justification by
faith. This liberty consists of three parts. First, believers renouncing
the righteousness of the law look only to Christ. Secondly, the
conscience, freed from the yoke of the law, voluntarily obeys the will
of God. This cannot be done under the dominion of the law. Thirdly,
under the Gospel we are free to use things indifferent. The consciences
of believers, while seeking the assurance of their justification before
God, must rise above the law, and think no more of obtaining
justification by it. Our consciences being free from the yoke of the law
itself, voluntarily obey the will of God.


_VI.--ON THE DOCTRINE OF ELECTION_


Ignorance of the doctrine of election and predestination impairs the
glory of God and fosters pride. The covenant of life is not preached
equally to all, and among those to whom it is preached does not always
meet with the same reception. The reason of this discrimination belongs
to the secret thing of God. This doctrine is cavilled at; yet when we
see one nation preferred to another, shall we plead against God for
having chosen to give such a manifestation of His mercy? God has
displayed His grace in special forms. Thus of the family of Abraham He
rejected some, and kept others within His Church, showing that He
retained them among His sons.

Although the election of God is secret, it is made manifest by effectual
calling. Both election and effectual calling are founded on the free
mercy of God Calling is proved to be according to the free grace of God
by the declarations of Scripture, by the mode in which it is dispensed,
by the instance of Abraham's vocation, by the testimony of John, and by
the example of all those who have been called. There are two species of
calling. There is a universal call by which God, through the preaching
of His Word, invites all men alike. Besides this, there is a special
call, which, for the most part, God bestows on believers only, when by
the internal illumination of His Spirit he causes the Gospel to take
deep root in their hearts.

       *       *       *       *       *



SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE


AIDS TO REFLECTION


     This famous book, of which the full title is "Aids to
     Reflection in the Formation of a Manly Character on the
     several Grounds of Prudence, Morality, and Religion," was
     published in 1825, nine years before the author's death. Its
     influence on thoughtful minds was very great, and many of the
     first divines of that period owed to it their profoundest
     religious ideas. It has been said that the fame of Coleridge
     (see LIVES AND LETTERS) as a philosophic thinker is not so
     great as it was during the twenty years immediately after his
     death; but one imagines that this statement merely means that
     not so many people now read Coleridge as did fifty years ago.
     The book, at any rate, has not yet been written which exposes
     a fallacy in his argument or demolishes his system. It should
     be remembered that this poet and searching thinker, to whom
     men like Wordsworth and Haslitt listened with reverence, was
     for some time in his life a Unitarian, and won to faith in the
     divinity of Christ by the use of his reason.


_I.--INTRODUCTORY APHORISMS_


It is the most useful prerogative of genius to rescue truths from the
neglect caused by the very circumstance of their universal admission.
Truths, of all others the most awful and interesting, are too often
considered as so true that they lose the power of truth, and lie
bedridden in the dormitory of the soul.

There is one sure way of giving freshness and importance to the most
commonplace maxims--that of _reflecting_ on them in direct reference to
our own state and conduct, to our own past and future being. A
reflecting mind, says an ancient writer, is the spring and source of
every good thing. As a man without forethought scarce deserves the name
of man, so forethought without reflection is but a metaphorical phrase
for the instinct of a beast.

In order to learn, we must attend; in order to profit by what we have
learnt, we must think; he only thinks who reflects.

To assign a feeling and a determination of their will as a satisfactory
reason for embracing or rejecting an opinion is the habit of many
educated people; to me, this seems little less irrational than to apply
the nose to a picture, and to decide on its genuineness by the sense of
smell.

In attention we keep the mind passive; in thought we rouse it into
activity.

An hour of solitude passed in sincere and earnest prayer, or the
conflict with and conquest over a single passion or "subtle bosom sin,"
will teach us more of thought, will more effectually awaken the faculty,
and form the habit of reflection, than will a year's study in the
schools without them.

Never yet did there exist a full faith in the Divine Word which did not
expand the intellect, while it purified the heart; which did not
multiply the aims and objects of the understanding, while it fixed and
simplified those of the desires and passions. "Give me understanding,"
says David, "and I shall observe Thy laws with my whole heart."

It is worthy of especial observation that the Scriptures are
distinguished from all other writings pretending to inspiration, by the
strong and frequent recommendations of knowledge and a spirit of
inquiry. The word "rational" has been strongly abused of late times.
This must not, however, disincline us to the weighty consideration that
thoughtfulness and a desire to rest all our convictions on grounds of
right reasoning, are inseparable from the character of a Christian. He
who begins by loving Christianity better than truth will proceed by
loving his own sect and church better than Christianity, and end in
loving himself best of all.


_II.--REFLECTIONS RESPECTING MORALITY_


Sensibility, that is a constitutional quickness, of sympathy with pain
and pleasure, is not to be confounded with the moral principle.
Sensibility is not even a sure pledge of a good heart. How many are
prompted to remove those evils alone, which by hideous spectacle or
clamorous outcry are present to their senses and disturb their selfish
enjoyments? Provided the dunghill is not before their parlour window,
they are well contented to know that it exists, and perhaps is the
hotbed on which their own luxuries are reared. Sensibility is not
necessarily benevolence.

All the evil of the materialists is inconsiderable besides the mischief
effected and occasioned by the sentimental philosophy of Sterne and his
numerous imitators. The vilest appetites and the most remorseless
inconstancy towards their objects, acquired the titles of the "heart,"
"the irresistible feelings," "the too-tender sensibility"; and if the
frosts of prudence, the icy chain of human law, thawed and vanished at
the genial warmth of human nature, who could help it? It was an amiable
weakness! At this time the profanation of the word "love" rose to its
height; the muse of science condescended to seek admission at the
saloons of fashion and frivolity, rouged like a harlot and with the
harlot's wanton leer. I know not how the annals of guilt could be better
forced into the service of virtue than by such a comment on the present
paragraph as would be afforded by sentimental correspondence produced in
courts of justice, fairly translated into the true meaning of the words,
and the actual object and purpose of the infamous writers.

Do you in good earnest aim at dignity of character? I conjure you, turn
away from those who live in the twilight between vice and virtue. Are
not reason, discrimination, law, and deliberate choice the
distinguishing characters of humanity? Can anything manly proceed from
those who for law and light would substitute shapeless feelings,
sentiments, impulses, which, as far as they differ from the vital
workings in the brute animals, owe the difference to their former
connection with the proper virtues of humanity? Remember that love
itself, in its highest earthly bearing, as the ground of the marriage
union, becomes love by an inward fiat of the will, by a completing and
sealing act of moral election, and lays claim to permanence only under
the form of duty.

All things strive to ascend, and ascend in the striving. While you
labour for anything below your proper humanity, you seek a happy life in
the region of death.

    Unless above himself he can
    Erect himself, how mean a thing is man!


_III.--PRUDENTIAL APHORISMS_


With respect to any final aim or end, the greater part of mankind live
at hazard. They have no certain harbour in view, nor direct their course
by any fixed star. But to him that knoweth not the port to which he is
bound, no wind can be favourable; neither can he who has not yet
determined at what mark he is to shoot, direct his arrow aright.

It is not, however, the less true that there is a proper object to aim
at; and if this object be meant by the term happiness, the perfection of
which consists in the exclusion of all hap [_i.e.,_ chance], I assert
that there is such a thing as _summum bonum_, or ultimate good. What
this is, the Bible alone shows certainly, and points out the way. "In
Cicero and Plato," says Augustine, "I meet with many things acutely
said, and things that excite a certain warmth of emotion, but in none of
them do I find these words, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest!'"

In the works of Christian and pagan moralists, it is declared that
virtue is the only happiness of this life. You cannot become better, but
you will become happier; you cannot become worse without an increase of
misery. Few men are so reprobate as not to have some lucid moments, and
in such moments few can stand up unshaken against the appeal of their
own experience. What have been the wages of sin? What has the devil done
for you?

Though prudence in itself is neither virtue nor holiness, yet without
prudence neither virtue nor holiness can exist.

Art thou under the tyranny of sin, a slave to vicious habits, at enmity
with God, a fugitive from thy own conscience? Oh, how idle the disputes
whether the listening to the dictates of prudence from self-interested
motives be virtue, when the _not_ listening is guilt, misery, madness,
and despair! The most Christian-like pity thou canst show is to take
pity on thy own soul. The best service thou canst render is to show
mercy to thyself.


_IV.--APHORISMS ON SPIRITUAL RELIGION_


If there be aught spiritual in man, the will must be such. If there be a
will, there must be spirituality in man.

There is more in man than can be rationally referred to the life of
Nature and the mechanism of organisation. He has a will not included in
his mechanism; the will is, in an especial sense, the spiritual part of
our humanity.

I assume a something, the proof of which no man can _give_ to another,
yet every man may find for himself. If any man say that he cannot find
it, I am bound to disbelieve him. I cannot do otherwise without
unsettling the foundations of my own moral nature. If he will not find
it, he excommunicates himself, forfeits his personal rights, and becomes
a thing--_i.e.,_ one who may be used against his will and without regard
to his interest. If the materialist use the words "right" and
"obligation," he does it deceptively, and means only compulsion and
power. To overthrow faith in aught higher than nature and physical
necessity is the very purpose of his argument. But he cannot be ignorant
that the best and greatest of men have devoted their lives to enforce
the contrary; and there is not a language in which he could argue for
ten minutes in support of his scheme without sliding into phrases that
imply the contrary.

The Christian grounds his philosophy on assertions which have nothing in
them of theory or hypothesis; they are in immediate reference to three
ultimate facts--namely, the reality of the law of conscience; the
existence of a responsible will as the subject of the law; and lastly,
the existence of evil--of evil essentially such, not by accident of
circumstances, not derived from physical consequences, nor from any
cause out of itself. The first is a fact of consciousness, the second a
fact of reason necessarily concluded from the first, and the third a
fact of history interpreted by both.

I maintain that a will conceived separately from intelligence is a
non-entity, and that a will the state of which does in no sense
originate in its own act is a contradiction. It might be an instinct, an
impulse, and, if accompanied with consciousness, a desire; but a will it
could not be. And this every human being knows with equal clearness,
though different minds may reflect on it with different degrees of
distinctness; for who would not smile at the notion of a rose willing to
put forth its buds and expand them into flowers?

I deem it impious and absurd to hold that the Creator would have given
us the faculty of reason, or that the Redeemer would in so many varied
forms of argument and persuasion have appealed to it, if it had been
useless or impotent. I believe that the imperfect human understanding
can be effectually exerted only in subordination to, and in a dependent
alliance with, the means and aidances supplied by the supreme reason.

Christianity is not a theory, or a speculation, but a life. Not a
philosophy of life, but life, and a living process. It has been eighteen
hundred years in existence.

The practical inquirer has his foot on the rock when he knows that
whoever needs not a Redeemer is more than human. Remove from him the
difficulties that perplex his belief in a crucified Saviour, convince
him of the reality of sin, and then satisfy him as to the fact
historically, and as to the truth spiritually, of a redemption therefrom
by Christ. Do this for him, and there is little fear that he will let
either logical quirks or metaphysical puzzles contravene the plain
dictate of his commonsense, that the Sinless One that redeemed mankind
from sin must have been more than man, and that He who brought light and
immortality into the world could not in His own nature have been an
inheritor of death and darkness.

A moral evil is an evil that has its origin in a will. An evil common to
all must have a ground common to all. Now, this evil ground cannot
originate in the Divine will; it must, therefore, be referred to the
will of man. And this evil ground we call original sin. It is a
mystery--that is, a fact which we see, but cannot explain; and the
doctrine a truth which we apprehend, but can neither comprehend nor
communicate.

The article on original sin is binding on the Christian only as showing
the antecedent ground and occasion of Christianity, which is the edifice
raised on this ground. The two great moments of the Christian religion
are, original sin and redemption; _that_ the ground, _this_ the
superstructure of our faith. Christianity and redemption are equivalent
terms.

The agent and personal cause of the redemption of mankind is--the
co-eternal word and only begotten Son of the living God. The causation
act is--a spiritual and transcendent mystery, "that passeth all
understanding." The effect caused is--the being born anew, as before in
the flesh to the world, so now born in the spirit to Christ.

Now, albeit the causative act is a transcendent mystery, the fact, or
actual truth, of it having been assured to us by revelation, it is not
impossible, by steadfast meditation on the idea and supernatural
character of a personal will, for a mind spiritually disciplined to
satisfy itself that the redemptive act supposes an agent who can at once
act on the will as an exciting cause, and in the will, as the condition
of its potential, and the ground of its actual, being.

The frequent, not to say ordinary, disproportion between moral worth and
worldly prosperity has at all times led the observant and reflecting few
to a nicer consideration of the current belief, whether instinctive or
traditional. By forcing the soul in upon herself, this enigma of saint
and sage, from Job, David, and Solomon to Claudian and Boetius, this
perplexing disparity of success and desert, has been the occasion of a
steadier and more distinct consciousness of a something in man,
different in kind, which distinguishes and contra-distinguishes him from
animals--at the same time that it has brought into closer view an enigma
of yet harder solution--the fact, I mean, of a contradiction in the
human being, of which no traces are observable elsewhere, in animated or
inanimate nature.

A struggle of jarring impulses; a mysterious division between the
injunctions of the mind and the elections of the will; and the utter
incommensurateness and the unsatisfying qualities of the things around
us, that yet are the only objects which our senses discover or our
appetites require us to pursue; these facts suggest that the riddle of
fortune and circumstance is but a form of the riddle of man, and that
the solution of both problems lies in the acknowledgement that the soul
of man, as the subject of mind and will, possesses a principle of
permanence and is destined to endure.

Evidences of Christianity! I am weary of the word. Make a man feel the
want of it; rouse him, if you can, to the self-knowledge of his need of
it; and you may safely trust it to its own evidence--remembering only
the express declaration of Christ himself, "No man cometh to Me, unless
the Father leadeth him."

Christ's awful recalling of the drowsed soul from the dreams and phantom
world of sensuality to actual reality--how has it been evaded! His word,
that was spirit! His mysteries, which even the apostles must wait for
the parable in order to comprehend! These spiritual things, which can
only be spiritually discerned, were--say some--mere metaphors! Figures
of speech! Oriental hyperboles! "All this means only morality!" Ah! how
far nearer the truth to say that morality means all this!


       *       *       *       *       *



CONFUCIANISM


THE LUN YU, OR SAYINGS OF CONFUCIUS


     The so-called "Four Books" of Chinese literature are held in
     less esteem than the "Five Kings," or "Primary Classics," but
     they are still studied first by every Chinaman as a
     preparation for what is regarded as the higher and more
     important literature. It should be borne in mind that the four
     "Shus," as these books are called, tell us much more about the
     actual teaching and history of Confucius. The four books are:
     (i) The "Lun Yu," or the "Analects of Confucius," which
     contain chiefly the sayings and conversations of Confucius,
     and give, ostensibly in his own words, his teaching, and, in a
     subordinate degree, that of his principal disciples; (2) the
     "Ta-Hsio," or "Teaching for Adults," rendered also the "Great
     Learning," a treatise dealing with ethical and especially with
     political matters, forming Book 39 of the "Li-Ki," or "Book of
     Rites," the "Fourth Classic," (3) the "Chung Yung," or
     "Doctrine of the Mean," more correctly the State of
     Equilibrium or harmony, forming Book 28 of the "Li-Ki"; and
     (4) "Meng-tse," Latinised "Mencius," that is, the
     conversations and opinions of Mencius. The first, the "Lun
     Yu," or "Analects," is the most important of these, the next
     in importance being the teaching of Mencius. The book to which
     we are most indebted in the preparation of the following
     epitomes is "The Chinese Classics," edited by Dr. J. Legge.
     Other books are "The Sayings of Confucius," translated by S.A.
     Lyall; "Chinese Literature," by H.A. Giles; and "The Wisdom of
     Confucius," by G. Dimsdale Stacker.


_INTRODUCTORY_


The original of the Chinese title of the "Lun Yu" is literally
"Discourses and Dialogues." By Legge and most British Chinese scholars
this work is called "The Confucian Analects," the word "analect"
denoting things chosen, in the present case from the utterances of the
master.

The "Lun Yu" is arranged in twenty chapters or books, and gives,
ostensibly in his own words, the teaching of Confucius and that of his
leading disciples. It is here that we learn nearly all that we know
about Confucius. Since the work was composed, as we have it, within a
century of the master's death, there seems good reason for believing
that we have here a _bona-fide_ record of what he thought and said. We
may compare with the "Lun Yu" the Christian Gospels which profess to
give the doctrines and sayings of Jesus, and also the traditional
utterances of Mohammed edited by Al-Bokhari, who died in 870 A.D. The
utterances which follow are by the master (Confucius) himself, unless it
is otherwise stated. Other speakers are generally disciples of
Confucius.


_GENERAL MAXIMS_


I care little who makes a nation's laws if I have the making of its
ballads.

The young child ought to be obedient at home, modest from home,
attentive, faithful, full of benevolence, spending spare time mostly
upon poetry, music, and deportment.

A son ought to study his father's wishes as long as the father lives;
and after the father is dead he should study his life, and respect his
memory.

A man who is fond of learning is not a glutton, nor is he indolent; he
is earnest and sincere in what he says and does, seeks the company of
the good, and profits by it.

At fifteen my whole mind was on study. At thirty I was able to stand
alone. At forty my speculative doubts came to an end. At fifty I
understood Heaven's laws. At sixty my passions responded to higher
instincts. At seventy my better nature ruled me altogether.

Mere study without thought is useless, but thought without study is
dangerous.

Fine words and attractive appearances are seldom associated with true
goodness.

If a man keeps cultivating his old knowledge and be ever adding to it
new, that man is fit to be a teacher of others.

The superior man is broad-minded, and no partisan. The mean man is
biased and narrow.

Tze-chang studied with a view to official promotion. The master said,
"This is wrong," adding, "Thou shouldest listen much, keep silent when
there is doubt, and guard thy tongue. See much, beware of dangers, and
walk warily. Then shalt thou have little cause for repentance."

I do not know how a man can get on without truth. It is easier for a
waggon to go without a cross-pole, or a carriage to be drawn without
harness.

Neither courtesy nor music avail a man if he has not virtue and love.

Worship the dead as though they stood alive before you. Sacrifice to the
spirits as if they were in your immediate presence.

If I am not personally present when the sacrifice is being made, then I
do not sacrifice. There can be no proxy in this matter.

Tze-kung wanted to do away with the offering of a sheep at the new moon.
The master said, "Thou lovest the sheep, but I love the ceremony."

These things are not to be tolerated: Rank without generosity, ritual
without reverence, and mourning without genuine sorrow.

It is better to have virtue with want and ignominy, than wealth and
honour without virtue.

If a man in the morning learns the right way of life he may die at night
without regret.

A scholar's mind should be set on the search for truth, and he should
not be ashamed of poor clothes or of plain or even of insufficient food.

The superior man loves the good and pursues it; besides this, he has no
likes or dislikes.

The good man considers what is right; the bad man what will pay.

As long as thy parents live thou must not go far from them. But if
through necessity thou leavest them, let them know where thou art, and
be ready to come to them when needed.

The man who governs himself, restraining his passions, seldom goes
wrong.

The good man desires to be slow of speech, but active in conduct.

Virtue stands never alone. It will always make neighbours.

In my first dealings with men I listened to their words, and gave them
credit for good conduct. Experience has taught me not to listen to their
words but to watch their conduct. It was from Yu that I learned this
lesson.

I have met no man of strong and unbending will; even Chang is
passionate.

On being asked why Kung-wan was said to be cultured, the master replied,
"Because he was quick to learn, fond of learning, and especially because
he was not ashamed to ask questions of those below him." Of Tze-chang
the master said that he had four characteristics of the gentleman: he
was humble in his own life, respectful towards seniors, generous in
supplying the needs of the people, and just in all his demands of them.

Yen Yuan and Chi Lu were once sitting by the master, who turned to them
and said, "Come, I want each of you to tell me his wishes." Chi Lu said,
"I should like to have carriages and horses and light fur robes to share
with my friends that they, and I, may carelessly wear them out." Yen
Yuan said, "My wish is to make no boast of moral or intellectual
excellence." The master said, "My wish is this: to make the aged happy,
to show sincerity towards friends, and to treat young people with
tenderness and sympathy."

Nature preponderating over art begets coarseness; art preponderating
over nature begets pedantry; art and nature united make a proper
gentleman.

To men whose talents are above mediocrity we speak of superior things.
To men whose talents are below the common we must speak things suited to
their culture.

On being asked, "What is wisdom," the master replied, "To promote right
thoughts and feelings among men; to honour the spirits of the dead." In
reply to the question, "What is love?" the master answered, "Making most
of self-sacrificing efforts but of success only in a subordinate
degree."

Perfect virtue consists in keeping to the Golden Mean. He who has
offended against Heaven has no one to whom he can pray.

Men should not murmur against Heaven, for all that Heaven does is good.

The master paid great attention to three things--piety, peace, and
health.

If I have coarse rice to eat and pure water to drink, and my bent arm
for a pillow, I am content and happy. But ill-gotten riches and honour
are to me as a floating cloud.

If my life could be lengthened out by a few years, I would devote at
least fifty years to the study of the "Yi King" [Book of Changes], then
might I be purified from my sin.


_ON POETRY, HISTORY, AND PROPRIETY_


The master constantly talked about poetry, history, and the rules of
propriety.

Tze-lu, on being asked about Confucius, gave no answer. The master asked
about being present, said, "Why didst thou not say to him, 'Confucius is
a man so eager in the pursuit of knowledge that he forgets his food, so
jubilant in its attainment that he forgets his grief and grows old
without knowing it'?"

I was not born in the possession of knowledge, but I am fond of the past
and study it closely, and hence knowledge is coming to me.

My pupils, do not think that I hide anything from you. Whatever I think
and do I tell you frankly and truly. I keep no secrets from my
disciples.

The master used to teach four things: culture, morals, and manners,
piety, and faithfulness.

In knowledge and in culture I am perhaps the equal of other men. I have
not yet attained to perfection, nor are my knowledge and living
consistent.

The master once being very ill, Tze-lu asked permission to pray for him.
The master asked, "Is that customary?" "It is," replied the disciple,
"for the memorials have it, 'Pray to the spirits in heaven above and on
earth below.'" The master replied, "I have for long prayed for myself,
and that is best."

The master was dignified, yet gentle. He was majestic, but inspired no
fear. He was gentlemanly, but always at ease.

Poetry rouses the mind, the rules of propriety establish the character,
music crowns a man's education.

It would be hard to meet a man who has studied for three years without
learning something good.

Learn as though you felt you could never learn enough, and as though you
feared you could not learn in your short life what is needful for
conduct.

A man from a certain village once said, "Confucius is, no doubt, a very
learned man, but he has not made himself a name in any special thing."
When the master heard this, he said to his disciples, "What shall I
undertake: charioteering, archery, or what? I think I shall become a
charioteer, and thus get me a name."

A high officer asked Tze-kung, "May we not say that the master is a sage
because he can do so many things?" To which Tze-kung replied, "Heaven
has indeed highly endowed him, and he is almost a sage; and he is very
many-sided."

On hearing this the master said, "Does the officer know me? Being of
lowly birth when I was young, I learnt many a trade, but there was
nothing great in that. The superior man may excel in one thing only, and
not in many things."

Wishing to go and live among the nine wild tribes of the East, one of
his friends remonstrated with the master and said, "They are low. How
can you go and live among them?" To which he gave for answer, "Nothing
that is low can survive where the virtuous and the good-mannered man
is."

After I returned from Wei to Lu I found the music had been reformed, and
that each song was given its proper place.

The master said, "To serve ministers and nobles when abroad, fathers and
elder brothers when at home, to avoid neglect in offerings of the dead,
and to be no slave to wine: to which of these have I attained?"


_CONFUCIUS AT HOME AND AT COURT_


In his own village Confucius looked homely and sincere, as if he had no
word to say; but in the ancestral temple and in the court he was full of
words, though careful in using them.

When waiting at court he talked with the lower officers frankly, but to
the higher officers more blandly and precisely. When the sovereign was
present he used to be respectful but easy, solemn yet self-possessed.
When the sovereign bade him receive visitors his countenance changed,
and his legs appeared to bend. Bowing to those beside him, he
straightened his robes in front and behind, hastening forward with his
elbows extended like a bird's wings. When the guest had retired he used
to report to the prince, saying, "The guest does not any more look
back." When he entered the palace gate he seemed to stoop as though it
were not high enough for him. Ascending the dais, lifting up his robes
with both hands, he held his breath as if he would cease breathing. As
he came down his face relaxed after the first step, and looked more at
ease. At the bottom of the steps he would hurry on, spreading out his
elbows like wings, and on gaining his seat he would sit intent as
previously.

He was never arrayed in deep purple or in puce-coloured garments. Even
at home he wore nothing of a red or reddish colour. In hot weather he
used to wear a single garment of fine texture, but always over an inner
garment. Over lambs' fur he wore a garment of black, over fawns' fur one
of white, and over foxes' fur one of yellow. His sleeping-dress was half
as long again as his body. On the first day of the month he always went
to court in court robes. On fast days he wore pale-hued garments,
changed his food, and made a change in his apartment.

He liked to have his rice carefully cleaned and his minced meat chopped
small. He did not eat rice that had been injured by heat or damp or that
had turned sour, nor could he eat fish or meat which had gone. He did
not eat anything that was discoloured or that had a bad flavour, or that
was not in season. He would not eat meat badly cut, or that was served
with the wrong sauce. No choice of meats could induce him to eat more
than he thought right.

After sacrificing at the ancestral temple he would never keep the meat
there overnight, nor would he keep it more than three days at home. If
by any mishap it were kept longer, it was not eaten.

He never talked at meals, nor would he speak a word in bed. Though there
were on the table nothing but coarse rice and vegetable soup, he would
always reverently offer some of it to his ancestors. If his mat was not
straight he would not sit on it.


_ON LEARNING AND VIRTUE_


Chung-kung asked about virtue. The master said: "It consists in these
things: To treat those outside thine own home as if thou wert welcoming
a great guest; to treat the people as if thou wert assisting at a high
sacrifice; not to do to others what thou wouldest not have them do to
thee; to encourage no wrongs in the state nor any in the home."

The master being once asked "Who is the virtuous man?" answered, "One
that has neither anxiety nor fear, for he finds no evil in his heart.
What, then, is there to cause anxiety or fear?"

The master, on being once asked by one of his disciples "On what does
the art of government depend?" answered, "Sufficient food, troops, and a
loyal people." "If, however," the same disciple asked, "one of them had
to be dispensed with, which of the three could we best spare?" "Troops,"
said the master. "And which," the disciple then asked, "of the other two
could be better spared?" "Food," said the master.

Tze-chang asked the master, "When may a scholar or an officer be called
eminent?" The master asked, "What dost thou mean by being eminent?" To
which the other answered, "To be famous throughout the state and
throughout his clan." "But that," said the master, "is fame, not
eminence. The truly eminent man is genuine and straightforward; he loves
righteousness, weighs people's words, and looks at their countenances.
He humbles himself to others, and is sincerely desirous of helping all.
That is the, eminent man, though he may not be a famous one."

If a ruler can govern himself, he is likely to be able to govern his
people. But how can a man who has not control of himself keep his people
in subjection?

Tze-kung asked, "Is it proper that a man should be liked by all his
neighbours?" "Certainly not," said the master. "Is it then proper,"
asked the same, "that a man should be hated by all his neighbours?"
"Decidedly not," said the master. "The good man is loved by his good
neighbours, and hated by his bad ones."

The virtuous man is hard to satisfy, but easy to serve. Nothing that
thou doest to please him satisfies him unless it is strictly according
to right. But in all his demands upon his servants he expects according
to capacity, and is satisfied if the servant does his best, though it be
little. The bad man is easy to satisfy, but hard to serve. He is
satisfied with whatever pleases him, though it be not right; and he
demands of his servants whatever he requires, making no allowance for
capacity.

A scholar whose mind is set upon comfort is not worthy of the name.

"Where there's a will," said the master, "there's a way."

To refrain from speaking to a man who is disposed to hear is to wrong
the man; to speak to a man not disposed to listen is to waste words.

"How can one in brief express man's whole duty?"

"Is not reciprocity such a word?" said the master; "that is, what thou
dost not want others to do to thee, do thou not to others."

There are three things which the virtuous man has to guard against. In
youth, lust; in full manhood, strife; and in old age, covetousness.

The highest class of men are those who are born wise; the next those who
become wise by study; next and third, those who learn much, without
having much natural ability. The lowest class of people are those who
have neither natural ability nor perseverance. Men are very similar at
birth; it is afterwards the great differences arise.

It is only the wisest and the silliest of men who never alter their
opinions.

"My children," said the master once to his disciples, "Why do you not
study the Book of Poetry [the Shih King]? It would stimulate your mind,
encourage introspection, teach you to love your fellows, and to forbear
with all. It would show you your duty to your fathers and your king; and
you would also learn from it the names of many birds and beasts and
plants and trees."


TA-HSIO, OR TEACHING FOR ADULTS


_INTRODUCTORY_


The "Ta-Hsio," or "Teaching for Adults," rendered also "The Great
Learning," is really a treatise dealing with ethical, and especially
with political, matters, the duties of rulers, ministers, etc. It is
usually ascribed in part to "the master" himself, and in part to Tseng
Tsan, one of the most illustrious of his disciples. This forms Book 39
of the "Li Ki," or "Book of Rites," and it is admitted by the best
scholars to be a genuine specimen of the teaching of Confucius, though
no one believes that "the master" is the author of the book as it now
stands. The likeliest suggestion as to authorship is that which ascribes
the present treatise, and also the "Chung Yung" (No. 28 of the "Li Ki")
to Khung Chi, the grandson of Confucius.

The great Chinese philosopher Chang said of this book: "'The teaching
for Adults' is a book belonging to the Confucian school, forming the
gate through which youthful students enter the great temple of virtue.
We should not have been able to ascertain the methods of learning
pursued by the ancients if this book and the works of Mencius had not
been preserved. Beginners ought to start their studies with this book,
and then pass on to the harder books, after which the Five Classics
should be read and pondered over."

The object of the "Ta-Hsio" is to illustrate outstanding virtue, to
promote love of the people and their improvement in morals and manners.
In order that these results may be obtained, this treatise must be
patiently calmly, and thoughtfully studied.


_HOW THE EMPIRE IS TO BE IMPROVED_


The ancients, wishing to make their empire perfect, first endeavoured to
make their states perfect. For this last purpose they exerted themselves
to improve their famines, and to this end they took great pains to
improve their personal character. In order to improve their personal
character, they endeavoured to purify their hearts and to make their
thoughts sincere.

From the Son of Heaven [the Emperor] to the masses of the people, the
cultivation of personal character was regarded as the root of all
amelioration. To know this has been called knowing the "root," which is
the perfection of knowledge.

On Thang's bathing-tub these words were inscribed:

"Renovate thyself day by day, yea, every day renovate thyself." At the
opening of his reign, Thang was exhorted to renovate his people.

In the Book of Poetry it is said that although Kau was an ancient state,
yet it regarded Heaven's commands as ever new. In the same book we read
that the thoughts of the Emperor Wan were deep, and his conduct firm. In
all his relationships he was reverent and true. As a sovereign he was
benevolent; as a minister respectful; as a son he exhibited filial
piety; as a father he was kind and considerate; towards his subjects he
was steadfastly faithful. This virtuous and accomplished sovereign, Wan,
took great pains to sharpen his intellect and to make his heart more
sensitive to all obligations. How majestic, how glorious was he; he
shall ever be remembered by his grateful people at the ancestral shrine.

"The cultivation of personal character depends upon the regulation of
the mind." What does this mean? If a man's passions are not kept under
control, he will form wrong judgments about actions and never have a
well-balanced mind. Therefore must man regulate his mind in order to
cultivate himself. "The government of the family depends upon the
cultivation of personal character." What does this mean? Where there is
affection, judgment is distorted. We see the good qualities of those we
love, but are blind to the bad ones. We see the bad qualities of those
we hate, but are blind to the good ones. In order to be able to govern a
family rightly, we must train our minds to judge fairly and impartially
of those nearest to us--_i.e.,_ it requires careful self-training to be
able to train a family.

"We must be able to govern the family before we can rule a state." What
means this? If a man fails to teach the members of his own family to be
obedient and loyal to their head, how can he train a nation to be
united, obedient, and loyal?

Yas and Shun ruled with love, and the people became loving. Kieh and Kau
ruled with violence, and the people became violent. The sovereign must
have and exhibit the same qualities that he wishes his subjects to
cultivate. Nor has he the right to expect his people to be free from bad
qualities which are in himself. The ruler must himself be what he wants
his people to be. Thus it is that the government of the state rests upon
the proper government of the family.

"That the empire should have peace and prosperity depends upon the
government of the constituting states." What does this mean?

When ruler and ministers treat their aged ones as they ought to, the
inhabitants in general become filial. Similarly, the inhabitants learn
to show respect towards their seniors and sympathy towards the young
when their superiors set them the right example in these matters. No man
should treat his inferiors as he would not like his superiors to treat
him. What he disapproves of in his inferiors, let him not exhibit in his
dealings towards his superiors.

In the Book of Poetry it is written, "The parents of the people are much
to be congratulated. A sovereign whose loves and hates correspond with
those of his people is his people's father." To gain the people is to
gain the state; therefore a ruler's primary concern should be his own
integrity, for thereby he wins his people's loyalty, and through that
loyalty he obtains the state, and therewith the wealth of the whole
country.

Virtue is the root, wealth but the branches. See first, therefore, to
the root.

In the Records of Khu one reads, "The State of Khu values men, not gems
nor robes."

A country is wealthy if it consumes less than it produces, and that man
is rich whose income exceeds his expenditure.

The virtuous ruler gathers wealth on account of the reputation it can
bring him. The wicked ruler seeks wealth for its own sake, sacrificing
even virtue to obtain it.

A benevolent sovereign makes a just people. When the people are just the
affairs of the sovereign prosper. The state's prosperity consists in
righteousness, not in riches.


CHUNG YUNG, OR DOCTRINE OF THE MEAN


_INTRODUCTORY_


The "Chung Yung" is more correctly rendered "The state of equilibrium
and harmony" (Legge, etc.) than by "The Doctrine of the Mean," its usual
appellation. Other titles suggested have been "The Just Mean," "The True
Mean," "The Golden Mean," and "The Constant Mean." The word "chung"
means "middle," "yung" denoting "course" or "way." Hence, "Chung Yung"
means literally, "The middle way." Compare Aristotle's doctrine of The
Mean ("Ethics" Book II.).

This treatise occurs as Book 28 of the "Li-Ki" and by Chinese scholars
has been declared to be the most valuable part of the Book of Rites. We
have here the fullest account existing of the philosophy and ethics of
the master. Apart from its value as such, the "Chung Yung" is
exceedingly interesting as a monument of the teaching of the ancient
Chinese. In its existing form the "Chung Yung" is arranged in five
divisions, containing, in all, thirty-three chapters. No attempt is made
in the epitomes that follow to retain these divisions and chapters. For
the authorship and date of this third book see what is said in the
introduction to the "Ta-Hsio."


_THE GOOD MAN'S PATH_


The sense of obligation has been implanted in man by Heaven. The path of
duty is a life in accordance with this heaven-implanted intuition. Every
man ought always to tread this path; the true doctrine teaches how this
is to be accomplished. The good man will ever be on his guard lest he
depart a hair's breadth from the right way.

The mental state of equilibrium is reached when a man is free from the
distracting influences of anger and goodwill, joy and sorrow. When these
emotions exist in due proportion and extent the state of harmony is
attained. From the first proceed all great human enterprises. The state
of harmony is the path along which all good men will go. When the states
of equilibrium and harmony exist in their fulness gods and men receive
their dues, and there is prosperity and happiness.

Kung-ni[8] said, "The virtuous man embodies in himself the states of
equilibrium and harmony, but the low man knows neither of these states."
This perfect condition of human character in which there is complete
equilibrium and harmony is reached but by few. Why is this so? It is
because those who are wise consider these ideal states too commonplace,
and they aim at things which the world values more highly. The low man,
on the other hand, grovels in the dust and never rises to higher
thoughts or nobler aims. Men could, if they would, distinguish the
worthy from the unworthy, just as with a healthy palate they can tell
good food from bad. But men's moral discernment has been blunted by a
life of sensuality and sin, just as the physical palate loses its power
of tasting when in a diseased condition.

In order to find out the Mean, our Father Shun, of blessed memory, used
to question the people[9] and study their answers, even the shallow
ones. He used to encourage them to speak out by seeming to value the
poorest answers. He would take the extremest sayings he heard, and from
them deduce the Mean.

It is hard to keep in the middle way: men rule kingdoms and accept
honours and emoluments who have yet signally failed to govern themselves
by the rules of the Mean.

The good man's ambition is not to perform feats which startle the world
and give him fame, but rather to live the life of the moderate and
harmonious one; yet how often for lack of true discernment he fails!
This middle path is not, however, hidden from the sincere and pure; even
common men and women may know it, though in its highest reaches it
baffles the wisest. The greatest and the wisest and the best find lodged
within them unrealised ideals. Whoever strenuously aims at realising
these ideals, though he fails, is near the right path.

"The good man has four difficulties," said the master, "and I have not
myself been able to overcome them. (1) To serve my father as I should
like my son to serve me. (2) To serve my ruler as I should like him to
serve me were I his ruler. (3) To serve an elder brother as I should
like him to serve me were he my younger brother. (4) To act towards a
friend as I should like him to act towards me were our relations
reversed."[10]

The good man suits his conduct to his station in life. If he has wealth
and high office he acts becomingly, never treating his inferiors with
harshness or contempt. If he be poor and unrecognised, he never murmurs
against heaven, or pines over his lot, or cringes before superiors, or
does anything immoral for applause or gain. The virtuous man accepts
heaven's allotments thankfully and uncomplainingly.

In order to attain to the middle path we must carefully perform the
duties which lie nearest to us, not waiting to do great things. In the
Book of Poetry we read of the love of wife, of children, and brothers.
Cultivate this love on the home hearth, and thy charity will expand and
take in mankind. [Note how charity, though beginning at home, travels
far afield.]

Shun displayed his filial piety on a huge scale, and brought great
honour to his parents and to himself. No wonder that such filial piety
as his was rewarded with dominion, wealth, and fame. It is well said in
the Book of Poetry, "The good man receives Heaven's benediction."

The Emperor Wan was the only man with no cause for grief, his father
being the admirable Ki, and his son the equally admirable Wu. The father
laid the foundation of all this excellence, the son transmitting it to
his own son. The Emperor Wu retained the honour and distinction of his
forebears Thai, Kai, and Wan. He had the dignity of the true Son of
Heaven, and owned all within the Four Seas.[11] He sacrificed regularly
in the ancestral temple, and after death his successors sacrificed to
him. The Duke of Kau continued the glorious traditions handed on by Wu.
Both these great rulers realised the aspirations and wishes of their
forefathers, restoring and improving the ancestral temple, renovating
the sacred vessels and offering sacrifices suited to each year. In other
ways also they perpetuated the good deeds of their ancestors, observed
their religious rites, encouraged the study of music and poetry,
honoured the honourable, and loved the lovable. They showed due respect
to their departed ones, and thus discharged their duty to the living and
the dead.


THE WORKS OF MENCIUS

_INTRODUCTORY_


Mencius is the Latinised form of "Mengtse," which means "the philosopher
Meng," Meng (or Meng-sun) being the name of one of the three great
Houses of Lu, whose usurpations gave so much offence to Confucius. His
personal name was Ko, though this does not occur in his own works. He
was born in B.C. 372, and died in B.C. 289 at the age of 83, in the
twenty-sixth year of the Emperor Nan, with whom ended the long
sovereignty of Kau (Chow) dynasty. He was thus a contemporary of Plato
(whose last twenty-three years synchronised with his first
twenty-three), Aristotle, Zeno, Epicurus, and Demosthenes, and he is
well worthy of being ranked with these illustrious men.

Mencius was reared by his widowed mother, whose virtue and wisdom are
still proverbial in China. The first forty years of his life are
virtually a blank to us, so that we know very little of his early
education. He is said, however, to have studied under Khung Chi, the
grandson of Confucius.

In the hundred and six years between the death of Confucius (B.C. 478)
and the birth of Mencius (B.C. 372), the political and moral state of
China had altered greatly for the worse. The smaller feudal states had
been swallowed up by larger ones, the princes were constantly at war
with one another, and there was but little loyalty to the occupant of
the imperial throne; moreover, the moral standard of things had lowered
very much. At about the age of forty-five Mencius became Minister under
Prince Hsuan, of the Chi state. But as his master refused to carry out
the reforms he urged, he resigned his post and travelled through many
lands, advising rulers and ministers with whom he came in contact. In
the year B.C. 319 he resumed his former position in the state of Chi,
resigning once more eight years later. He now gave himself up to a life
of study and teaching, preparing the works presently to be noticed. His
main purpose was to expound and enforce the teaching of Confucius. But
his own doctrine stands on a lower level than that of the master, for he
views man's well-being rather from the point of view of political
economy. He was justly named by Chao Chi "The Second Holy One or
Prophet"--the name by which China still knows him.

The treatise called "The Works of Mencius" is a compilation of the
conversation and opinions of Mencius, having a similar relation to that
great philosopher that the Analects (or "Lun Yu") have to Confucius. It
is arranged in seven books. According to tradition the work, in its
existing form, is as it came from the philosopher himself.


_VIRTUE, NOT PROFIT, TO BE THE CHIEF QUEST_


When Mencius visited King Hui, of Liang, the latter asked him what
counsel he could give to profit his kingdom. The philosopher replied,
"Why does your majesty use the word profit? The only things which I have
to counsel are righteousness and goodwill. If the king seeks mainly the
_profit_ of his kingdom, the great officers will seek the profit of
their families and the common people that of theirs. The chief things to
be aimed at by king and people are virtue and benevolence. All else is
as nothing. No benevolent man has neglected his parents, nor has any
virtuous man slighted his sovereign."

"How comes it," asked the king, "that my state Tsin has deteriorated
since I became its ruler, and that calamities many and great have fallen
on it?" Mencius answered, "With so great an extent of territory as thine
prosperity ought to be within easy reach; but in order to procure it
your majesty must govern thy subjects justly and kindly, moderating
penalties, lightening taxes, promoting thus and otherwise their
industries, increasing their comforts as well as lessening their
burdens, deepening the faithfulness of the people to one another and to
the throne. Then will thy people be loyal to thee and formidable towards
thy foes. Thou shalt make thy subjects loyal friends, for the benevolent
one has no enemy."


_A PROSPEROUS RULER THE FRIEND AND FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE_


On one occasion the Emperor Hsuan of Chi visited Mencius in the Snow
Palace, and asked him, "Do the people find enjoyment in music and in the
chase?" "Certainly," answered Mencius; "it is when ruler and people
share each other's joys and sorrows that the sovereign attains to his
highest dignity. Moreover, a ruler, when moving amongst his people ought
to copy the ancient sovereigns. In the good old days, when the ruler
made a tour of inspection among his people he was received with great
acclamation everywhere, for joy and gladness came in his train. In the
spring he inspected the ploughing and supplied all that was lacking in
the way of seed. In the autumn he examined the reaping and made up for
any deficiency in the yield. It was a common saying during the Hsia
dynasty, 'If the Emperor visiteth not, what will become of us?' But now,
may your majesty permit me to say, matters are very different, for, when
in these days a ruler visits his people he is accompanied by a huge
army, who with himself and suite have to be maintained by the people
visited. And so it comes to be that the hungry are robbed of their food,
and the toilers are wearied with the extra tasks imposed upon them. If a
ruler wishes to have the hearts of his people, and to' be regarded as
their father, he must consider their needs and endeavour to supply
them."


_MENCIUS USES STRATAGEM TO BRING HOME TO THE EMPEROR HIS GUILT_


Mencius said on one occasion to Hsuan, King of Chi, "Suppose one of thy
ministers were to entrust his family during his absence to a
subordinate, and that the latter neglected his duty so that the wife and
children were exposed to great suffering and danger. What should that
minister do?"

"Dismiss him at once," was the royal reply.

"But," continued the philosopher, "suppose that the government of your
own kingdom were bad, the people suffering and disunited and disloyal on
account of their king's bad rule. What then should be done?" The king,
looking this way and that, turned the conversation to other themes.


_IT MAY BE RIGHT TO KILL A SOVEREIGN_


King Hsuan asked Mencius, "Is it true that Thang banished his own
sovereign, Kieh [the last king of the Hsia dynasty], and that Wu
attacked the tyrant Emperor Kau-hsin and slew him?" "It is true," said
Mencius, "for it is so written in the 'Shu King.' But if a sovereign
acts as Kieh did he is no longer a sovereign but a robber, and to be
dealt with as such. And if a ruler is, like Kau-hsin, the enemy of his
people, he is no longer their ruler, and therefore to be put out of the
way, and how better than by death?"


_THE GIFTS THAT MAY AND THOSE THAT MAY NOT BE ACCEPTED_


Chan Tsin spoke to Mencius as follows:

"The King of Chi once offered thee a present and thou declinedst it, but
didst accept gifts offered at Sung and at Hsieh. Why this inconsistency?
If it were right to refuse in the first case it was equally right to
refuse in the other two. If it were right to accept in the latter two
cases, it was equally right to accept in the first case." The
philosopher answered, "I acted rightly and consistently. The gifts at
Sung were to provide me with what was needed for a long journey which I
was about to undertake. Why should I refuse such gifts when needed? At
Hsieh I was in some personal danger and needed help to procure the means
of self-defence. The gifts were to enable me to procure arms. Why should
I have refused such needed help? But at Chi I needed no money, and
therefore refused it when offered, for to accept money when it is not
needed is to accept a bribe. Why should I take such money?"


_WRONG CONDUCT SHOULD BE ENDED AT ONCE_


A distinguished officer of Sung, called Tai Ying-chib, called upon
Mencius and said, "I am unable as yet to dispense with the tax on goods
and the duties charged at the frontier passes and in the markets, though
this is a right and proper thing to do. But it is my intention, until
the next year, to lighten the tax and the duties, and then next year I
shall remove them altogether." The philosopher replied, "Here is a man
who daily steals a score of his neighbour's fowls. Someone remonstrates,
and, feeling that he is guilty of acting dishonestly, he says, 'I know
that this stealing is wrong, but in the future I shall be content with
stealing one fowl a month. But next year I will stop stealing fowls
altogether.' If," continued Mencius, "this task and these duties are, as
you admit, wrong, end them at once. Why should you wait a year?"


_THE INHERENT GOODNESS OF HUMAN NATURE_


Kao Tzu said to Mencius, "Human nature resembles running water, which
flows east or west according as it can find an outlet. So human nature
is inclined equally to what is good and to what is bad." "It is true,"
answered Mencius, "that water will flow indifferently to the east or to
the west. But it will not flow indifferently up or down; it can only
flow down. The tendency of human nature is towards what is good, as that
of water is to flow downwards. One may, indeed, by splashing water, make
it spurt upwards, but that is forcing it against its true character.
Even so, when a man becomes prone to what is evil it is because his
Heaven-implanted nature has been diverted from its true bent."


_PEOPLE FIRST, KINGS LAST_


"The people," said Mencius, "are first in importance; next come the
gods. The kings are last and least."


_EVERY MAN SHOULD ACCEPT HIS LOT_


Mencius said, "Every man's lot is fixed for him, and it is a proof of
wisdom to accept it uncomplainingly. He who does this faces misfortune
and even death unmoved."


_WHAT THE GOOD KING DELIGHTS IN MOST_


"The virtuous king," said Mencius, "is glad to have a large extent of
territory and a numerous people to rule over; but his heart is not on
these things. To be at the head of a great kingdom and to see his people
loyal, united, and flourishing, gives the good king joy; but his heart
is not on these things. It is on benevolence, justice, propriety, and
knowledge that the good king's heart is set."


_THE INFLUENCE OF EXAMPLE_


Mencius said, "In the good days of old, men of virtue and talent
abounded in the land, and their influence for good was great upon their
fellows. But now, alas, the masses of the people are ignorant, and
depraved, and their dominant influence is bad."


_COUNSELLORS SHOULD LOVE RIGHTEOUSNESS RATHER THAN RICHES_


Mencius said, "Those who counsel men in high places should feel contempt
for their pomp and display. I have no wish for huge and gorgeous halls,
for luxurious food with hundreds of attendants, or for sparkling wine or
bewitching women. These things I esteem not; what I esteem are the rules
of propriety handed down by the ancients."

       *       *       *       *       *



FENELON


THE EXISTENCE OF GOD


     Francois de Salignac de la Mothe Fenelon was born at the
     chateau of Fenelon, in the ancient territorial division of
     Perigord, France, August 6, 1651. At twenty-four he became a
     priest. He was for many years a friend of his celebrated
     contemporary Bossuet, but later Bossuet attacked a spiritual
     and unworldly work of Fenelon, who was condemned by the Pope.
     He died on January 17, 1715, leaving behind him many books, of
     which the "Treatise on the Existence of God," first published
     in 1713, is the masterpiece. This noble and profound work,
     though it accepts the "argument from design," which the
     discovery of universal evolution necessarily modifies, does so
     with such rare philosophical insight as to stand for ever far
     above any other works of the kind. Fenelon can scarcely be
     called a mystic, for his reason was of the finest, and never
     surrendered its claims; but, though a strictly rational
     thinker, he had the insight of the mystic or the idealist who
     sees in external nature, and in the mind of man alike, what
     Goethe called "the living garment of God."


_I.--THE HAND THAT MAKES EVERYTHING_


I cannot open my eyes without admiring the art that shines throughout
all nature; the least cast suffices to make me perceive the Hand that
makes everything.

Men the least exercised in reasoning, and the most tenacious of the
prejudices of the senses, may yet with one look discover Him who has
drawn Himself in all His works. The wisdom and power He has stamped upon
everything He has made are seen, as it were, in a glass by those that
cannot contemplate Him in His own idea. This is a sensible and popular
philosophy, of which any man free from passion and prejudice is capable.

If a great number of men of subtle and penetrating wit have not
discovered God with one cast of the eye upon nature, it is not matter of
wonder, for either the passions they have been tossed by have still
rendered them incapable of any fixed reflection, or the false prejudices
that result from passions have, like a thick cloud, interposed between
their eyes and that noble spectacle.

A man deeply concerned in an affair of great importance, that should
take up all the attention of his mind, might pass several days in a room
treating about his concerns without taking notice of the proportions of
the chamber, the ornaments of the chimney, and the pictures about him,
all of which objects would continually be before his eyes, and yet none
of them make any impression upon him. In this manner it is that men
spend their lives. Everything offers God to their sight, and yet they
see Him nowhere.

They pass away their lives without perceiving that sensible
representation of the Deity. Such is the fascination of worldly trifles
that obscure their eyes. Nay, oftentimes they will not so much as open
them, but rather affect to keep them shut, lest they should find Him
they do not look for. In short, what ought to help most to open their
eyes serves only to close them faster. I mean the constant duration and
regularity of the motions which the Supreme Wisdom has put in the
universe.

But, after all, whole nature shows the infinite art of its Maker. When I
speak of an art, I mean a collection of proper means chosen on purpose
to arrive at a certain end; or, if you please, it is an order, a method,
an industry, or a set design. Chance, on the contrary, is a blind and
necessary cause, which neither sets in order nor chooses anything, and
has neither will nor understanding. Now, I maintain that the universe
bears the character and stamp of a cause infinitely powerful and
industrious; and, at the same time, that chance--that is, the fortuitous
concourse of causes void of reason--cannot have formed this universe.

Who will believe that so perfect a poem as Homer's "Iliad" was not the
product of the genius of a great poet, but that the letters of the
alphabet, being confusedly jumbled and mixed, were by chance, as it were
by the cast of a pair of dice, brought together in such an order as is
necessary to describe, in verses full of harmony and variety, so many
great events; to place and connect them so well together; to paint every
object with all its most graceful, most noble, and most affecting
attendants; in short, to make every person speak according to his
character in so natural and so forcible a manner? Let people subtilise
upon the matter as much as they please, yet they never will persuade a
man of sense that the "Iliad" was the mere result of chance. How, then,
can a man of sense be induced to believe, with respect to the universe,
what his reason will never suffer him to believe in relation to the
"Iliad"?


_II.--EARTH, THE MOTHER OF ALL LIVING_


After these comparisons, about which I only desire the reader to consult
himself, without any argumentation, I think it is high time to enter
into a detail of nature. I do not pretend to penetrate through the
whole. Who is able to do it? Neither do I pretend to enter into any
physical discussion. Such way of reasoning requires a certain deep
knowledge, which abundance of men of wit and sense never acquire; and
therefore I will offer nothing to them but the simple prospect of the
face of nature. I will entertain them with nothing but what everybody
knows, which requires only a little calm and serious attention.

Let us, in the first place, stop at the great object that first strikes
our sight--I mean the general structure of the universe. Let us cast our
eyes on this earth that bears us.

Who is it that hung and poised this motionless globe of the earth? Who
laid its foundation? Nothing seems more vile and contemptible, for the
meanest wretches tread it under foot; but yet it is in order to possess
it that we part with the greatest treasures. If it were harder than it
is, men could not open its bosom to cultivate it; and if it were less
hard it could not bear them, and they would sink everywhere as they do
in sand, or in a bog. It is from the inexhaustible bosom of the earth we
draw what is most precious. That shapeless, vile, and rude mass assumes
the most various forms, and yields alone, by turns, all the goods we can
desire. That dirty soil transforms itself into a thousand fine objects
that charm the eye. In the compass of one year it turns into branches,
twigs, buds, leaves, blossoms, fruits, and seeds, in order, by those
various shapes, to multiply its liberalities to mankind.

Nothing exhausts the earth; the more we tear her bowels the more she is
liberal. After so many ages, during which she has produced everything,
she is not yet worn out. She feels no decay from old age, and her
entrails still contain the same treasures. A thousand generations have
passed away, and returned into her bosom.

Everything grows old, she alone excepted; for she grows young again
every year in the spring. She is never wanting to men; but foolish men
are wanting to themselves in neglecting to cultivate her. It is through
their laziness and extravagance they suffer brambles and briars to grow
instead of grapes and corn. They contend for a good they let perish. The
conquerors leave uncultivated the ground for the possession of which
they have sacrificed the lives of so many thousand men, and have spent
their own in hurry and trouble. Men have before them vast tracts of land
uninhabited and uncultivated, and they turn mankind topsy-turvy for one
nook of that neglected ground in dispute. The earth, if well cultivated,
would feed a hundred times more men than she does now. Even the
unevenness of ground, which at first seems to be a defect, turns either
into ornament or profit. The mountains arose and the valleys descended
to the place the Lord had appointed for them. Those different grounds
have their particular advantages, according to the divers aspects of the
sun. In those deep valleys grow fresh and tender grass to feed cattle.
Next to them opens a vast champaign covered with a rich harvest. Here,
hills rise like an amphitheatre, and are crowned with vineyards and
fruit-trees. There, high mountains carry aloft their frozen brows to the
very clouds, and the torrents that run down from them become the springs
of rivers. The rocks that show their craggy tops bear up the earth of
mountains just as the bones bear up the flesh in human bodies.

There is scarce any spot of ground absolutely barren if a man do not
grow weary of digging, and turning it to the enlivening sun, and if he
require no more from it than it is proper to bear. Amidst stone and
rocks there is sometimes excellent pasture, and their cavities have
veins which, being penetrated by the piercing rays of the sun, furnish
plants with most savoury juices for the feeding of herds and flocks.
Even sea-coasts that seem to be the most sterile and wild yield
sometimes either delicious fruits or most wholesome medicines that are
wanting in the most fertile countries. Besides, it is the effect of a
wise over-ruling Providence that no land yields all that is useful to
human life. For want invites men to commerce, in order to supply one
another's necessities. It is therefore that want which is the natural
tie of society between nations; otherwise, all the people of the earth
would be reduced to one sort of food and clothing, and nothing would
invite them to know and visit one another.

All that the earth produces, being corrupted, returns into her bosom,
and becomes the source of a new production. Thus she resumes all she has
given in order to give again. Thus the corruption of plants, and of the
animals she feeds, feed her, and improve her fertility. Thus, the more
she gives the more she resumes; and she is never exhausted, provided
they who cultivate her restore to her what she has given. Everything
comes from her bosom, everything returns to it, and nothing is lost in
it. Nay, all seeds multiply there.

Admire the plants that spring from the earth; they yield food for the
healthy, and remedies for the sick. Their species and virtues are
innumerable. They deck the earth, yield verdure, fragrant flowers, and
delicious fruits. Do you see those vast forests that seem as old as the
world? Those trees sink into the earth by their roots, as deep as their
branches shoot up to the sky. Their roots defend them against the winds,
and fetch up, as it were by subterranean pipes, all the juices destined
to feed the trunk. The trunk itself is covered with a tough bark that
shelters the tender wood from the injuries of the air. The branches
distribute, by several pipes, the sap which the roots had gathered up in
the trunk. In summer the boughs protect us with their shadow against the
scorching rays of the sun.

The farther we seek through the universe the more sure is her teaching.
That which we learnt from the earth and from plants is taught us again
by water, by the air, and by fire. It is the lesson of the skies, and of
the sun and the stars. The whole animal world teaches us the same. If we
turn from things that are large, we shall find wonders no less in the
infinitely little; if we turn from the bodies of animals to the study of
their instincts, their sleep, their food, the persistence of their races
from age to age--though all individuals are mortal--again we find
evidence of the skill and power of the Author of all things.

Still more wonderful is the body of man, his skin and veins, his bones
and joints, his senses, tongue and teeth, the proportions of his body,
and, above all things, his soul, which alone among all creatures thinks
and knows and is sovereign master over the body.

It is this reason that is in man which, above all, demonstrates the
residence of God in us.


_III.--GOD IN THE MIND OF MAN_


It cannot be said that man gives himself the thoughts he had not before;
much less can it be said that he receives them from other men, since it
is certain he neither does nor can admit anything from without, unless
he finds it in his own foundation, by consulting within him the
principles of reason, in order to examine whether what he is told is
agreeable or repugnant to them. Therefore, there is an inward school
wherein man receives what he neither can give himself, nor expect from
other men who live upon trust as well as himself.

Here, then, are two reasons I find within me, one of which is myself,
the other is above me. That which is myself is very imperfect,
prejudiced, liable to error, changeable, headstrong, ignorant, and
limited; in short, it possesses nothing but what is borrowed. The other
is common to all men, and superior to them. It is perfect, eternal,
immutable, ever ready to communicate itself in all places, and to
rectify all minds that err and mistake; in short, incapable of ever
being either exhausted or divided, although it communicates itself to
all who desire it.

Where is that perfect reason which is so near me, and yet so different
from me? Surely it must be something real, for nothing cannot either be
perfect or make perfect imperfect natures. Where is that supreme reason?
Is it not the very God I look for?

We have seen the prints of the Deity, or, to speak more properly, the
seal and stamp of God Himself, in all that is called the works of
nature. When a man does not enter into philosophical subtleties, he
observes with the first cast of the eye a hand, that was the first
mover, in all the parts of the universe, and set all the wheels of the
great machine agoing. Everything shows and proclaims an order, an exact
measure, an art, a wisdom, a mind superior to us, which is, as it were,
the soul of the whole world, and which leads and directs everything to
His ends, with a gentle and insensible, though ever an omnipotent force.

We have seen, as it were, the architecture and frame of the universe;
the just proportion of all its parts; and the bare cast of the eye has
sufficed us to find and discover even in an ant, more than in the sun, a
wisdom and power that delights to exert itself in polishing and adorning
its vilest works.

This is obvious, without any speculative discussion, to the most
ignorant of men; but what a world of other wonders should we discover
should we penetrate into the secrets of physics, and dissect the inward
parts of animals, which are framed according to the most perfect
mechanics.

Let a man study the world as much as he pleases; let him descend into
the minutest details; dissect the vilest of animals; narrowly consider
the least grain of corn sown in the ground, and the manner in which it
germinates and multiplies; attentively observe with what precautions a
rose-bud blows and opens in the sun, and closes again at night; and he
will find in all these more design, conduct, and industry than in all
the works of art. Nay, what is called the art of men is but a faint
imitation of the great art called the laws of nature, which the impious
did not blush to call blind chance. Is it, therefore, a wonder that
poets animated the whole universe, bestowed wings upon the winds, and
arrows on the sun, and described great rivers impetuously running to
precipitate themselves into the sea and trees shooting up to heaven to
repel the rays of the sun by their thick shades? These images and
figures have also been received in the language of the vulgar, so
natural it is for men to be sensible of the wonderful art that fills all
nature.

Poetry did only ascribe to inanimate creatures the art and design of the
Creator, who does everything in them. From the figurative language of
the poets those notions passed into the theology of the heathens, whose
divines were the poets. They supposed an art, a power, or a wisdom,
which they called _numen_ [divinity], in creatures the most destitute of
understanding. With them great rivers were gods, and spring naiads.
Woods and mountains had their particular deities; flowers had their
Flora; and fruits, Pomona. After all, the more a man contemplates
nature, the more he discovers in it an inexhaustible stock of wisdom,
which is, as it were, the soul of the universe.

What must we infer from thence? The consequence flows of itself. "If so
much wisdom and penetration," says Minutius Felix, "are required to
observe the wonderful order and design of the structure of the world,
how much more were necessary to form it!"

If men so much admire philosophers because they discover a small part of
the wisdom that made all things, they must be stark blind not to admire
that wisdom itself.


_IV.--A PRAYER TO GOD_


O my God, if so many men do not discover Thee in this great spectacle
Thou givest them of all nature, it is not because Thou art far from any
of us. Every one of us feels Thee, as it were, with his hand; but the
senses, and the passions they raise, take up all the attention of our
minds. Thus, O Lord, Thy light shines in darkness; but darkness is so
thick and gloomy that it does not admit the beams of Thy light.

Thou appearest everywhere; and everywhere inattentive mortals neglect to
perceive Thee. All nature speaks of Thee, and resounds with Thy holy
name; but she speaks to deaf men, whose deafness proceeds from the noise
and clatter they make to stun themselves. Thou art near and within them;
but they are fugitive, and wandering, as it were, out of themselves.
They would find Thee, O Sweet Light, O Eternal Beauty, ever old and ever
young, O Fountain of Chaste Delights, O Pure and Happy Life of all who
live truly, should they look for Thee within themselves. But the impious
lose Thee only by losing themselves. Alas! Thy very gifts, which should
show them the hand from whence they flow, amuse them to such a degree as
to hinder them from perceiving it. They live by Thee, and yet they live
without thinking on Thee or, rather, they die by the Fountain of Life
for want of quenching their drought in that vivifying stream; for what
greater death can there be than not to know Thee, O Lord? They fall
asleep in Thy soft and paternal bosom, and, full of the deceitful dreams
by which they are tossed in their sleep, they are insensible of the
powerful hand that supports them.

If Thou wert a barren, impotent, and inanimate body, like a flower that
fades away, a river that runs, a house that decays and falls to ruin, a
picture that is but a collection of colours to strike the imagination,
or a useless metal that glistens, they would perceive Thee, and fondly
ascribe to Thee the power of giving them some pleasure, although in
reality pleasure cannot proceed from inanimate beings, which are
themselves void and incapable of it, but from Thee alone, the true
spring of all joy. If, therefore, Thou wert but a lumpish, frail, and
inanimate being, a mass without any virtue or power, a shadow of a
being, Thy vain fantastic nature would busy their vanity, and be a
proper object to entertain their mean and brutish thoughts. But because
Thou art too intimately within them, and they never at home, Thou art to
them an unknown God; for while they rise and wander abroad, the intimate
part of themselves is most remote from their sight. The order and beauty
Thou scatterest over the face of Thy creatures are like a glaring light
that hides Thee from them and dazzles their sore eyes. In fine, because
Thou art too elevated and too pure a truth to affect gross senses, men
who are become like beasts cannot conceive Thee, though man has daily
convincing instances of wisdom and virtue without the testimony of any
of his senses; for those virtues have not sound, colour, odour, taste,
figure, nor any sensible quality.

Why, then, O my God, do men call Thy existence, wisdom, and power more
in question than they do those other things most real and manifest, the
truth of which they suppose as certain, in all the serious affairs of
life, and which, nevertheless, as well as Thou, escape our feeble
senses? O misery! O dismal night that surrounds the children of Adam! O
monstrous stupidity! O confusion of the whole man! Man has eyes only to
see shadows, and truth appears a phantom to him. What is nothing is all;
and what is all is nothing to him. What do I behold in all nature? God.
God everywhere, and still God alone.

When I think, O Lord, that all being is in Thee, Thou exhaustest and
swallowest up, O Abyss of Truth, all my thoughts. I know not what
becomes of me. Whatever is not Thou disappears; and scarce so much of
myself remains wherewithal to find myself again. Who sees Thee not never
saw anything; and who is not sensible of Thee, never was sensible of
anything. He is as if he were not. His whole life is but a dream. Arise,
O Lord, arise, Let Thy enemies melt like wax and vanish like smoke
before Thy face. How unhappy is the impious soul who, far from Thee, is
without God, without hope, without eternal comfort! How happy he who
searches, sighs, and thirsts after Thee. But fully happy he on whom are
reflected the beams of Thy countenance, whose tears Thy hand has wiped
off, and whose desires Thy love has already completed.

When will that time be, O Lord? O fair day, without either cloud or end,
of which Thyself shalt be the sun, and wherein Thou shalt run through my
soul like a torrent of delight! Upon this pleasing hope I cry out: "Who
is like Thee, O Lord? My heart melts and my flesh faints, O God of my
soul, and my eternal wealth."

       *       *       *       *       *



GALILEO


THE AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE


     Galileo's treatise on "The Authority of Scripture in
     Philosophical Controversies" was written at a time when the
     Copernican theory of the constitution of the universe was
     engaging the attention of the world. A Benedictine monk,
     Benedetto Castelli, called upon to defend the theory at the
     grand-ducal table of Tuscany, asked Galileo's assistance in
     reconciling it with orthodoxy. His answer was an exposition of
     a formal theory as to the relations of physical science to
     Holy Writ. This answer was further amplified in the "Authority
     of the Scripture," addressed in 1614 to Christina of Lorraine,
     Dowager Grand-Duchess of Tuscany, an able and acute defence of
     his position. A year later another monk laid Galileo's letter
     to Castelli before the Inquisition, whereupon the philosopher
     was summoned by Pope Paul V. to the palace of Cardinal
     Bellarmine, and there warned against henceforth holding,
     teaching, or defending the condemned doctrine. Nevertheless,
     in a few years Galileo (see SCIENCE, vol. XV) had to suffer
     trial and condemnation by the Inquisition for publishing his
     "Dialogues on the System of the World," which gave the
     Ptolemaic theory its death-blow.


_I.--THE DEFENDERS OF FALLACY_


Some years ago I discovered many astronomical facts till then unknown.
Their novelty and their antagonism to some physical propositions
commonly received by the schools did stir up against me many who
professed the vulgar philosophy, as if, forsooth, I had with my own hand
placed these things in the heavens to obscure and disturb nature and
science. These opponents, more affectionate to their own opinion than to
truth, tried to deny and disprove my discoveries, which they might have
discerned with their own eyes; and they published vain discourses,
interwoven with irrelevant passages, not rightly understood, of the
sacred Scriptures. From this folly they might have been saved had they
remembered the advice of St. Augustine, who, dealing with celestial
bodies, writes: "We ought to believe nothing unadvisedly in a doubtful
point, lest in favour of our error we conceive a prejudice against that
which truth hereafter may discover to be nowise contrary to the sacred
books."

Time has proved every one of my statements, and proving them has also
proved that my opponents were of two kinds. Those who had doubted simply
because the discoveries were new and strange have been gradually
converted, while those whose incredulity was based on personal ill-will
to me have shut their eyes to the facts and have endeavoured to asperse
my moral character and to ruin me.

Knowing that I have confuted the Ptolemaic and Aristotelian arguments,
and distrusting their defence in the field of philosophy, they have
tried to shield their fallacies under the mantle of a feigned religion
and of scriptural authority, and have endeavoured to spread the opinion
that my propositions are contrary to the Scriptures, and therefore
heretical. To this end they have found accomplices in the pulpits, and
have scattered rumours that my theory of the world-system would ere long
be condemned by supreme authority.

Further, they have endeavoured to make the theory peculiar to myself,
ignoring the fact that the author, or rather restorer, of the doctrine
was Nicholas Copernicus, a Catholic, and a much-esteemed priest, who was
summoned to Rome to correct the ecclesiastic calendar, and in the course
of his inquiries reached this view of the universe.

The calendar has since been regulated by his doctrine, and on his
principles the motions of the planets have been calculated. Having
reduced his doctrine to six books, he published them under the title of
"De Revolutionibus Coelestibus," at the instance of the Cardinal of
Capua, and of the Bishop of Culma; and, since he undertook the task at
the order of Pope Leo X., he dedicated the work to his successor Paul
III., and it was received by the Holy Church and studied by all the
world.

In the end of his dedicatory epistle Copernicus writes: "If there should
chance to be any mateologists who, ignorant in mathematics yet
pretending to skill in that science, should dare, upon the authority of
some passage of Scripture wrested to their purpose, to condemn and
censure my hypothesis, I value them not, and scorn their inconsiderate
judgment. For it is not unknown that Lactantius (a famous author though
poor mathematician) writes very childishly concerning the form of the
earth when he scoffs at those who affirm the earth to be in form of a
globe. So that it ought not to seem strange to the intelligent if any
such should likewise now deride us. The mathematics are written for
mathematicians, to whom (if I deceive not myself) these labours of mine
shall seem to add something, as also to the commonweal of the Church
whose government is now in the hands of Your Holiness."

It is such as Lactantius who would now condemn Copernicus unread, and
produce authorities of the Scripture, of divines, and of councils in
support of their condemnation. I hold these authorities in reverence,
but I hold that in this instance they are used for personal ends in a
manner very different from the most sacred intention of the Holy Church.
I am ready to renounce any religious errors into which I may run in this
discourse, and if my book be not beneficial to the Holy Church may it be
torn and burnt; but I hold that I have a right to defend myself against
the attacks of ignorant opponents.

The doctrine of the movement of the earth and the fixity of the sun is
condemned on the ground that the Scriptures speak in many places of the
sun moving and the earth standing still. The Scriptures not being
capable of lying or erring, it followeth that the position of those is
erroneous and heretical who maintain that the sun is fixed and the earth
in motion.

It is piously spoken that the Scriptures cannot lie. But none will deny
that they are frequently abstruse and their true meaning difficult to
discover, and more than the bare words signify. One taking the sense too
literally might pervert the truth and conceive blasphemies, and give God
feet, and hands, and eyes, and human affections, such as anger,
repentance, forgetfulness, ignorance, whereas these expressions are
employed merely to accommodate the truth to the mental capacity of the
unlearned.

This being granted, I think that in the discussion of natural problems
we ought to begin not with the Scriptures, but with experiments and
demonstrations. Nor does God less admirably discover Himself to us in
nature than in Scripture, and having found the truth in nature we may
use it as an aid to the true exposition of the Scriptures. The
Scriptures were intended to teach men those things which cannot be
learned otherwise than by the mouth of the Holy Spirit; but we are meant
to use our senses and reason in discovering for ourselves things within
their scope and capacity, and hence certain sciences are neglected in
the Holy Writ.

Astronomy, for instance, is hardly mentioned, and only the sun, and the
moon, and Lucifer are named. Surely, if the holy writers had intended us
to derive our astronomical knowledge from the Sacred Books, they would
not have left us so uninformed. That they intentionally forbore to speak
of the movements and constitution of the stars is the opinion of the
most holy and most learned fathers. And if the Holy Spirit has omitted
to teach us those matters as not pertinent to our salvation, how can it
be said that one view is _de Fide_ and the other heretical? I might here
insert the opinion of an ecclesiastic raised to the degree of
Eminentissimo: That the intention of the Holy Ghost is to teach us how
we shall go to Heaven, and not how the heavens go.


_II.--SCRIPTURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL TRUTH_


Since the Holy Writ is true, and all truth agrees with truth, the truth
of Holy Writ cannot be contrary to the truth obtained by reason and
experiment. This being true, it is the business of the judicious
expositor to find the true meaning of scriptural passages which must
accord with the conclusions of observation and experiment, and care must
be taken that the work of exposition do not fall into foolish and
ignorant hands. It must be remembered that there are very few men
capable of understanding both the sacred Scriptures and science, and
that there are many with a superficial knowledge of the Scriptures and
with no knowledge of science who would fain arrogate to themselves the
power of decreeing upon all questions of nature. As St. Jerome writes:
"The talking old woman, the dotard, the garrulous sophist, all venture
upon, lacerate, teach, before they have learnt. Others, induced by
pride, dive into hard words, and philosophate among women touching the
Holy Scriptures. Others (oh, shameful!) learn of women what they teach
to men."

I will not rank among these same secular writers any theologists whom I
repute to be men of profound learning and sober manners, and therefore
hold in great esteem and veneration; yet it vexes me when they would
constrain science by the authority of the Scriptures, and yet do not
consider themselves bound to answer reason and experiment. It is true
that theology is the queen of all the sciences, but queen only in the
sense that she deals with high matters revealed in noble ways, and if
she condescends not to study the more humble matters of the inferior
sciences she ought not to arrogate to herself the right to judge them;
for this would be as if an autocratic prince, being neither physician
nor architect, should undertake to administer medicines and erect
buildings to the danger of the lives of his subjects.

Again, to command the professors of astronomy to confute their own
observations is to enjoin an impossibility, for it is to command them
not to see what they do see, and not to understand what they do
understand, and to find what they do not discover. I would entreat the
wise and prudent fathers to consider the difference between matters of
opinion and matters of demonstration, for demonstrated conclusions
touching the things of nature and of the heavens cannot be changed with
the same facility as opinions touching what is lawful in a contract,
bargain, or bill of exchange. Your highness knows what happened to the
late professor of mathematics in the University of Pisa--how, believing
that the Copernican doctrine was false, he started to confute it, but in
his study became convinced of its truth.

In order to suppress the Copernican doctrine, it would be necessary not
only to prohibit the book of Copernicus and the writings of authors who
agree with him, but to interdict the whole science of astronomy, and
even to forbid men to look at the sky lest they might see Mars and Venus
at very varying distances from the earth, and discover Venus at one time
crescent, at another time round, or make other observations
irreconcilable with the Ptolemaic system.

It is surely harmful to souls to make it a heresy to believe what is
proved. The prohibition of astronomy would be an open contempt of a
hundred texts of the Holy Scriptures, which teach us that the glory and
the greatness of Almighty God are admirably discerned in all His works,
and divinely read in the open book of the heavens.


_III.--FACT AND FAITH_


It may be said that the doctrine of the movement of the sun and the
fixity of the earth must _de Fide_ be held for true since the Scriptures
affirm it, and all the fathers unanimously accept the scriptural words
in their naked and literal sense. But it was necessary to assign motion
to the sun and rest to the earth lest the shallow minds of the vulgar
should be confounded, amused, and rendered obstinate and contumacious
with regard to doctrines of faith. St. Jerome writes: "It is the custom
for the pen-men of Scripture to deliver their judgments in many things
according to the common received opinion that their times had of them."
Even Copernicus himself, knowing the power of custom, and unwilling to
create confusion in our comprehension, continues to talk of the rising
and setting of the sun and stars and of variations in the obliquity of
the zodiac. Whence it is to be noted how necessary it is to accommodate
our discourse to our accustomed manner of understanding.

In the next place, the common consent of the fathers to a natural
proposition should authorise it only if it have been discussed and
debated with all possible diligence, and this question was in those
times totally buried.

Besides, it is not enough to say that the fathers accept the Ptolemaic
doctrine; it is necessary to prove that they condemned the Copernican.
Was the Copernican doctrine ever formally condemned as contrary to the
Scriptures? And Didacus, discoursing on the Copernican hypothesis,
concludes that the motion of the earth is not contrary to the
Scriptures.

Let my opponents, therefore, apply themselves to examine the arguments
of Copernicus and others; and let them not hope to find such rash and
impetuous decisions in the wary and holy fathers, or in the absolute
wisdom of him that cannot err, as those into which they have suffered
themselves to be hurried by prejudice or personal feeling. His holiness
has certainly an absolute power of admitting or condemning propositions
not directly _de Fide_, but it is not in the power of any creature to
make them true or false otherwise than of their own nature and _de
facto_ they are.

In my judgment it would be well first to examine the truth of the fact
(over which none hath power) before invoking supreme authority; for if
it be not possible that a conclusion should be declared heretical while
we are not certain but that it may be true, their pains are vain who
pretend to condemn the doctrine of the mobility of the earth and the
fixity of the sun, unless they have first demonstrated the doctrine to
be impossible and false.

Let us now consider how we may interpret the command of Joshua that the
sun should stand still.

According to the Ptolemaic system, the sun moves from east to west
through the ecliptic, and therefore the standing still of the sun would
shorten and not lengthen the day. Indeed, in order to lengthen the day
on this system it would be necessary not to hold the sun, but to
accelerate its pace about three hundred and sixty times. Possibly Joshua
used the words to suit the comprehension of the ignorant people;
possibly--as St. Augustine says--he commanded the whole system of the
celestial spheres to stand still, and his command to the moon rather
confirms this conjecture.

On the Copernican system interpretation is simplified; for if we
consider the mobility of the sun and how it is in a certain sense the
soul and heart of the universe, it is not illogical to say that it gives
not only light, but also motion to the bodies round it. In this manner,
by the standing still of the sun at Joshua's command, the day might be
lengthened without disturbing the order of the universe or the mutual
positions of the stars. This interpretation also explains the statement
that the sun stood still _in medio coeli_. Had the sun been in the
middle of the heavens in the sense of rising and setting, it had hardly
been necessary to check its course; but _in medio coeli_ probably
signifies in the middle or centre of the universe where it resides.

I have no doubt that other passages of the Scriptures could be likewise
interpreted in accordance with the Copernican system by divines with
knowledge of astronomy. They might say that the word "firmament" very
well agrees, _ad literam_, with the starry sphere. _Ad literam_, if they
admit the rotation of the earth, they might understand its poles, when
it is said _Nec dum terram fecerat, et flumina, et cardines orbis
terrae_. [Nor yet had He created the earth, or the rivers, or the hinges
for the globe of the earth.] Surely _cardines_, or "hinges," are
ascribed to the earth in vain if it be not to turn upon them.

       *       *       *       *       *



GEORG WILHELM FRIEDRICH HEGEL


THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION


     Hegel's "Philosophy of Religion" was published the year
     following the philosopher's death, at Berlin, in 1832; and the
     rugged shape and uneven construction of some of it may fairly
     be attributed to the fact that, as it stands, it is largely an
     editorial compilation. Such faults, however, as Dr. Edward
     Caird has remarked, "if they take from the lectures as
     expressions of their author's mind, and from their value as
     scientific treatises, have some compensating advantages if we
     regard them as a means of education in philosophy; for in this
     point of view their very artlessness gives them something of
     the same stimulating, suggestive power which is attained by
     the consummate art of the Platonic dialogues." The importance
     of the work is evidenced by the influence it has exercised
     over the mind of a later generation; and many readers, to whom
     Hegel (see Vol. XIV) is little more than a name, will
     certainly find here the sources of much that has become
     familiar as an essential part of the religious atmosphere of a
     later day, and of the apologies of modern speculative
     theology.


_I. THE RELATION OF PHILOSOPHY TO RELIGION_


The object of religion is the same as that of philosophy; it is the
external verity itself in its objective existence; it is God--nothing
but God and the unfolding of God. Philosophy is not the wisdom of the
world, but the knowledge of things which are not of this world. It is
not the knowledge of external mass, of empirical life and existence, but
of the eternal, of the nature of God, and of all which flows from His
nature. For this nature ought to manifest and develop itself.
Consequently, philosophy in unfolding religion merely unfolds itself,
and in unfolding itself it unfolds religion. In so far as philosophy is
occupied with the eternal truth, the truth which is in and for itself;
in so far as it is occupied with this as thinking spirit, rather than in
an arbitrary fashion and in view of a particular interest, philosophy
has the same sphere of activity as has religion. And if the religious
consciousness aspires to abolish all that is peculiar to itself and to
be absorbed in its object, the philosophic spirit likewise plunges with
the same energy into its object and renounces all particularity.

Religion and philosophy are thus at one in having one and the same
object. Philosophy, in fact, also is the adoration of God, it is
religion; for, seeing that God is its object, it involves the same
renunciation of every opinion and every thought that is arbitrary and
subjective. Philosophy is, in consequence, identical with religion. Only
it is religion in a peculiar manner, and this it is which distinguishes
it from religion commonly so called. So philosophy and religion are both
religion, and that which distinguishes one from the other is no more
than the characteristic mode in which respectively they consider their
object, God.

Here is the difficulty of understanding how philosophy can make but one
with religion, a difficulty which has even been mistaken for
impossibility. Thence also arise the fears which philosophy inspires in
theology and the hostile attitudes which they assume towards each other.
What brings about this attitude is, on the side of theology, that for
her philosophy does nothing but corrupt, pull down, and profane the
content of religion, and that she understands God in a totally different
manner from that after which religion understands Him. It is the same
opposition which long ago among the Greeks caused a free and democratic
people like the Athenians to burn books and to condemn Socrates. In our
own day, however, this opposition is considered a thing which it is
natural to admit--more natural indeed than the other opinion concerning
the unity of religion and philosophy.

Diverse religions offer us, it is true, only too often the most bizarre
and monstrous representations of the divine essence. But we must not
confine ourselves to a superficial consideration and consequent
rejection of these representations and the religious practices which
follow upon them as being engendered by superstition, by error, or by
imposture, or even by a simple piety, and so neglect their essential
value. There is need to discover in these representations and in these
practices their relation with truth.


_II.--GOD THE UNIVERSAL_


For us, who have religion, God is a familiar being, a substantial truth
existing in our subjective consciousness. But, scientifically
considered, God is a general and abstract term. The philosophy of
religion it is which develops and grasps the divine nature and which
teaches us what God is. God is a familiar idea, but an idea which has
still to be scientifically developed.

The result of philosophic examination is that God is the absolute truth,
the universal in and for itself, embracing all things and in which all
things subsist. And in regard to this assertion, we may appeal in the
first place to the religious consciousness, and to its conviction that
God is the absolute truth whence all things proceed, whither they all
return, upon which all things depend, and in respect of which nothing
can possess a true and absolute independence.

The heart may very well be full of this representation of God, but
science is not built up of what is in the heart. The object of science
is that which has arisen to the level of consciousness, and of thinking
consciousness that is, in other words, that which has attained to the
form of thought.

In so much as He is the universal, God is, for us, in relation to
development, Being enclosed in itself, Being at unity with itself. When
we say God is Being enclosed in itself, we enunciate a proposition which
is bound to a development which we await. But this envelopment of God in
Himself which we have called His universality we must not conceive,
relatively to God Himself and His content, as an abstract universality,
outside of which, and as opposed to which, the particular has an
independent existence.

So we must consider this universal as an absolutely concrete universal.
This sense of fulness is the sense in which God is one, and there is but
one God--that is to say, God is not one merely by contrast with other
gods, but because it is He that is the One, that is, God.

The things which are, the developments of the worlds of nature and of
mind, show a multiplicity of forms and an infinite variety of
existences. But whatever may be their difference of degree, of force, of
content, these things have no true independence; their being is
consequent, and, so to speak, contingent. When we predicate being of
particular things, it is not of Being which is absolute that we
speak--Being of and from itself; that is, God--but a borrowed being, a
semblance of being.

God in His universality--that is, this universal Being which has no
limit, no bounds, no particularity--is a Being which subsists
absolutely, and which subsists alone; all else which subsists has its
root in this unity, and by this alone subsists. In thus representing to
ourselves this first content we may say that God is absolute substance,
the only veritable reality. For not everything which has a reality has a
reality of its own, or subsists by itself. God is the only absolute
reality, and thereby the absolute substance.

If we stop at this abstract thought we have Spinozism, for in Spinozism
subjectivity is not yet differentiated from substantiality, from
substance as such. But in the presupposition just made there is also
this thought--God is spirit, absolute and eternal; spirit which comes
not forth from itself in differentiation. This ideality, this
subjectivity of spirit, which is transparency, ideality excluding all
particular determination, is precisely the universal, pure relation to
self, Being which remains absolutely within itself.

If we halt at substance, we fail to grasp this universal under its
concrete form. In its concrete determination spirit always preserves its
unity, this unity of its reality which we call substance. But one should
add that this substantiality, the unity of the absolute reality with
itself, is but the foundation, but a moment in the determination of God
as spirit. Hence, principally, arises the reproach which is directed
against philosophy--to wit, that philosophy, to be consistent with
itself, is necessarily Spinozism, and consequently atheism and fatalism.
But at the beginning we have not yet determinations distinguished one
from another as aye and nay. We have the one but not the other.

Consequently, what we have here is, to start with, content under the
form of substance. Even when we say, "God," "spirit," we have only
words, indeterminate representations. The essential point is to know
what has been produced in the consciousness. And that is, first, the
simple, the abstract. Here, in this first simple determination, we have
God only under the form of universality. Only we do not halt at this
moment.

Nevertheless, this content remains the foundation of all further
developments, for in these developments God comes not forth from His
unity. When God creates the world--to use the expression of every
day--there comes not into existence an evil, a contrary, existing in
itself independently of God.


_III.--GOD EXISTS FOR THOUGHT_


This Beginning is an object for us or a content in us. We possess this
object. Immediately the question arises, Who are we? We, I, spirit--here
also is a complex being, a multiplied being. I have perceptions; I see,
I hear, etc. Seeing, hearing; all this is I. Consequently, the precise
sense of this question is, Which among these determinations is it in
accordance with which this content exists for our minds? Idea, will,
imagination, feeling--which is the seat, the proper domain of this
content, of this object?

If we accept the common answers to this question, God will abide in us
as the object of faith, of feeling, of representation, of knowledge.

We shall have to examine more closely later on in a special fashion with
respect to this point, these forms, faculties, aspects of ourselves. In
this place we shall not seek a reply to this question; nor shall we say,
basing our answer on experience and observation, that God is in our
feeling, etc. But, to begin with, we will confine ourselves to what we
have actually before us, to this One, to this universal, to this
concrete Being.

If we take this One, and ask for what power, for what activity of our
mind does this One, this absolutely universal Being, exist, we cannot
but name the one activity of mind which corresponds to it as
constituting its proper natural domain. This activity, which corresponds
to the universal, is thought.

Thought is the field in which this content moves; it is the energising
of the universal, or the universal in the reality of its activity. Or,
if we say that thought embraces the universal, that for which the
universal is will still be thought.

This universal which can be produced by thought, and which is for
thought, may be a quite abstract universal. In this sense it is the
unlimited, the infinite, the being without bounds, without particular
determination. This universal, negative to begin with, has its seat not
elsewhere than in thought.

To think of God is to rise above the things of sense, exterior and
individual, above simple feeling into the region of pure being; being at
unity with itself--that is to say, into the pure region of the
universal. And this region is thought.

Such is the substratum for this content considered on the subjective
side. Here the content is that Being in which is no difference, no
schism; Being which abides in itself, the universal; and thought is the
form for which this universal is.

Thus we have a difference between thought and the universal which we
have called God. It is a difference which in the first place belongs
only to our reflection, and is by no means to be found in the content on
its own account. There is the result to which philosophy comes--a result
already comprised in religion as under the form of faith--to wit, that
God is the sole veritable reality, the Being without which no other
reality would exist.

In the unity of this reality, in this cloudless shining, the reality and
the distinction which we call thinking-being have as yet no place.

What we have before us is this absolute unity. This content, this
determination we cannot yet call religion because to religion belongs
subjective spirit consciousness. Thought is the seat of this universal,
but this seat is, to begin with, absorbed in this being which is one,
eternal, in and for itself.

This universal constitutes the beginning and the point of departure, but
only as unity which so abides. It is not a mere substratum whence
differences are born; rather, all differences are included in this
universal. No more is it an abstract and inert universal, but the
absolute principle of all activity, the matrix, the infinite source
whence all things proceed, whither all things return, and in which they
are eternally preserved.

Thus the universal is never separated from this ethereal element, from
this Unity with itself, this concentration within itself.


_IV.--WHAT IS EVIL?_


As the universal, God could not find Himself faced by a contrary whereof
the reality should pretend to rise above the phantasmal level. For this
pure unity and this perfect transparency matter is nothing impenetrable,
and spirit, the ego, is not so independent as to possess a true,
individual, substantiality of its own.

There has been a tendency to label this idea pantheism. It would be more
exact to call it the conception of substantiality. God is first
determined as substance only. The absolute subject spirit is also
substance; but it is determined rather as subject. This is the
difference generally ignored by those who assert that speculative
philosophy is pantheism. As usual, they miss the essential point and
disparage philosophy by falsifying it.

Pantheism is commonly taken to mean that God is all things--the whole,
the universe, the collection of all existences, of things infinite and
infinitely diverse. From which notion the charge is brought against
philosophy that it teaches that all things are God; that is to say, that
God is, not the universal which is in and for itself, but the infinite
multiplicity of individual things in their empirical and immediate
existence.

If you say God is all that is here, this paper, etc., you have indeed
committed yourself to the pantheism with which philosophy is reproached;
that is, the whole is understood as equivalent to all individual things.
But there is also the genus, which is equally the universal, yet is
wholly different from this totality in which the universal is but the
collection of individual things, and the basis, the content, is
constituted by these things themselves. To say that there has ever been
a religion which has taught this pantheism is to say what is absolutely
untrue. It has never entered any man's mind that everything is God; that
is to say, that God is things in their individual and contingent
existence. Far less has philosophy ever taught this doctrine.

Spinozism itself, as such, as well as Oriental pantheism, contains this
doctrine: that the divine in all things is no more than that which is
universal in their content, their essence; and in such sense that this
essence is conceived of as a determinate essence.

When Brahma says, "In the metal I am the brightness of its shining;
among the rivers I am the Ganges; I am the life of all that lives," he
thereby suppresses the individual. He says not, "I am the metal, the
rivers, the individual things of various kinds as such, nor in the
fashion of their immediate existence."

Here, at this stage, what is expressed is no longer pantheism; but
rather that of the essence in individual things.

In the living being are time and space. But in this individual being it
is only the changeless element that is made to stand out. "The life of
being that lives" is in this latter sphere of life the unlimited, the
universal. But if it be said "God is all things," here we understand
individuality with all its limitations, its finity, its passing
existence. This notion of pantheism arises out of the conception of
unity, not as spiritual unity but abstract unity; and then, when the
idea takes its religious form, where only the substance, the One, is
possessed of true reality, there is a tendency to forget that it is
precisely in presence of this unity that individual and finite things
are effaced, and to continue to place these in a material fashion side
by side with this unity. They will not admit the teaching of the
Eleatics, who, when they say "There is only One," add expressly that
non-entity is not. All that is finite would be limitation, a negation of
the One, but non-entity, the boundary, term, limit, and that which is
limited, exist not at all.

Spinozism has been accused of atheism. But Spinozism does not teach that
God is the world, that He is _all things_. Things have indeed a
phenomenal existence--that is, an existence as appearances. We speak of
our existence, and our life is indeed comprised in this existence, but
to speak philosophically the world has no reality, it has no existence.
Individual things are finite things to which no reality can be
attributed; it may be said of them that they have no existence.

Spinozism--this is the accusation directed against it--involves by way
of consequence that, if all things make but one, good and evil make but
one; there is no difference between them; and thereby all religion is
destroyed. In themselves, it is said there is no difference between good
and evil; consequently it is a matter of indifference whether one be
righteous or wicked. It may be granted that in themselves--that is, in
God, who is the sole veritable reality--the difference between good and
evil disappears. In God there is no evil. But the difference between
good and evil can exist only on condition that God is the evil. But it
cannot be allowed that evil is an affirmative thing, and that this
affirmation is in God. God is good, and nothing else than good; the
distinction between good and evil is not present in this unity, in this
substance, and comes into existence only with differentiation.

God is unity abiding absolutely in itself. In the substance there is no
differentiation. The distinction of good and evil begins with the
distinction of God from the world, and particularly from man. It is the
fundamental principle of Spinozism with regard to this distinction of
God and the world that man must have no other end than God. The love of
God, therefore, it is that Spinozism marks out for man as the law to be
followed in order to bring about the healing of this breach.

And it is the loftiest morality that teaches that evil has no existence
and that man is not bound to permit the substantial existence of this
distinction, this negation. Yet it is possible for him to desire to
maintain the difference and even to push it to the point of sheer
opposition to God, who is the universal, self-contained and
self-sufficing. In this case man is evil. But, alternatively, he may
annul this distinction and place his true existence in God alone and in
his aspiration towards Him; and in this case he is good.

In Spinozism there is indeed the difference between good and evil,
opposition between God and man; but side by side with it we have also
the principle that evil is to be deemed a non-entity. In God as God, in
God as substance, there is no distinction. It is for man that the
distinction exists, as also for him exists the distinction of good and
evil.


_V.--THE DETERMINATION OF UNITY_


The superficial method of appraising philosophy is exemplified also in
those who assert that it is a "system of identity." It is perfectly true
that substance is this unity at one with itself, but spirit no less is
this self-identity. Ultimately, all is identity, unity with itself. But
when they speak of the philosophy of identity they have in view abstract
identity or unity in general; and they neglect the essential point, to
wit, the determination of this unity in itself; in other words, they
omit to consider whether this unity is determined as substance or as
spirit. Philosophy from beginning to end is nothing else than the study
of determinations of unity.

In the sphere of the Notion many unities are comprised. The combination
of water and earth is a unity, but this unity is mixture. If we bring
together a base and an acid, we have as the result a crystal; also
water; but water which cannot be discerned and which gives no trace of
humidity. Here the unity of the water and of this matter is a unity
different from the mixture of water and earth. The essential point is
the difference of these determinations. The unity of God is always
unity, but what is of primary importance is to know the modes and forms
of the determination of this unity.

Manifestation, development, determination do not go on to infinity, nor
yet do they stop accidentally. But in the course of its true development
the Notion completes its course by a return upon itself, whereby it has
attained the reality adequate to it. So it is that the manifestation is
infinite in nature, that the content is adequate to the Notion of
spirit, and that the phenomenal world exists, like spirit, in and for
itself. In religion, the Notion of religion has become its own object.
Spirit which is in and for itself has now no longer in its development
individual forms and determinations, it knows itself no longer as spirit
in such determinability or such a limited moment; but it has triumphed
over these limitations and this finiteness, and is for itself that which
also it is in itself. This cognisance in which spirit is for itself what
it is in itself constitutes the in-and-for of spirit which is in
possession of knowledge, the perfect and absolute religion, in which is
revealed what spirit is, what God is. That is the Christian religion.

       *       *       *       *       *



THE BOOKS OF HINDUISM


THE VEDANTA SUTRAS


     Hinduism, though usually understood to include Brahmanism
     (q.v.), is, in fact, a later development of it. Its central
     doctrine is the trinity, or Trimurti, which embraces the
     three-fold manifestation of the god-head as Brahma, the one
     supreme being, the Creator; Vishnu the Preserver; and Siva the
     Destroyer. The three principal books of Hinduism are the
     "Vedanta Sutras," the "Puranas," and the "Tantras," of which
     only the first is epitomised here. The "Sutras" are the
     earliest. The "Vedanta" (literally "goal" or "issue of the
     Veda") is a purely pantheistic and monastic philosophical
     system, and by far the most prevalent in Modern India. It is
     ascribed to Badarayana, sometimes called Vyasa, though this
     last is really a generic name denoting "a collector." The word
     "sutra" denotes literally "threads," and is used by Brahmanic
     writers for short, dry sentences, brief expositions. "Vedanta
     Sutras" means literally "compendious expressions of the
     Vedantic (not Vedic) doctrine." The second great division of
     Hindu sacred literature is the "Puranas," the last and most
     modern of the books of Hinduism. The word "Purana" means
     "old," and in ancient Sanscrit writings it has the same
     meaning as our "cosmology." The "Puranas," however, are
     ill-arranged collections of theological and philosophical
     reflections, myths and legends, ritual, and ascetic rules.
     They depend very much on the two great epics, especially the
     Mahabharata. The Sanscrit writings called "Tantras" are really
     manuals of religion, of magic, and of counter-charms, with
     songs in praise of Sakti, the female side of Siva.


_INTRODUCTORY_


The Vedanta is sometimes called the Mimamsa (= philosophical
reflections). The aphorisms of which the Vedanta Sutras consist are in
themselves almost as unintelligible as the Confucian "Book of Changes,"
the compiler having been only too successful in aiding the memory of the
Hindu student by a system of _multum in parvo_.

It is usual to accept the interpretation put on the Sutras by the
Sanscrit commentator Sankara, commonly called Sankara Karya, who
flourished about A.D. 700. There are, however, many other commentaries,
notably that of Ramanuga. George Thibaut, in the "Sacred Books of the
East" (vols. 34, 38, and 48), gives the interpretation of Sankara, and
also that of Ramanuga when it differs essentially. On the whole it may
be said that Sankara is a thorough-going Vedantist and pantheist.
Ramanuga, on the other hand, has leanings towards the dualism of the
Sankhya philosophy, and endeavours to make the Vedanta Sutras support
his opinions.

The Vedanta Sutras embrace five hundred and fifty-five aphorisms, or
Sutras, arranged in four books (_Adhyay_), each having four-chapters
(_Pada_), the chapters being severally divided into sections
(_Adhikarana_). These Sutras are of the utmost importance, as nearly all
Hindu sects base their belief and practices on them. It should be
remembered that these Sutras form a collection, and that they are the
work of many hands, and belong to different periods.


_BOOK I.--BRAHMAN, THE SUM AND SUBSTANCE OF EVERYTHING_


The ego and the non-ego differ in themselves and in their attributes. It
will be found, however, that the non-ego depends on the ego, and is its
product. Individual souls, on the other hand, representing so many egos,
are themselves but manifestations of the supreme universal
soul--Brahman; that is, Brahman and the Atman [the individual soul] are
identical, the latter being the product of the self-revealing of the
former. [With this one may compare the "ontological ideas" of Plato, the
"absolute substance" of Spinoza, and the "absolute idea" of Hegel; all
of them standing for the One only existing Being which manifests itself
to thought and to sense in various forms.]

"What, then," asks the Vedantist, "is Brahman"?

The word comes from _brih_, "to be great." Hence Brahman is something,
or someone, transcendently great. The word may be defined as connoting
that whence all things proceed. This implies absolute, unoriginated
origin, absolute subsistence, and also reabsorption, for as all things
go forth from Brahman, so shall all things return to that whence they
started forth.

The Scriptures [Vedas] lay most stress on Brahman as the source and
origin of all things. What qualities there are in the world inhere in
Brahman, or they could not be in the world which has sprung from him.
There could be no intelligent souls without a previously existing
intelligent Brahman. That Brahman, the Supreme Being, is all-knowing is
proved from the fact that the Veda itself, the source and centre of what
is knowable, proceeds from Him as its one, only author.

This Brahman, as set forth in the Vedanta texts as the cause of the
world, is therefore intelligent, and by no means to be identified with
the non-intelligent Pradhana (_Prakriti_) which the Sankhya [atheistic]
philosophy makes to be the world's cause. What looks like a separate,
conscious, individual soul or mind is really but the outworking of
Brahman, the highest and first of beings.

The difference is apparent, but not real. So teaches Sankara; but his
rival commentator, Ramanuga, endeavours to show that Brahman, the
supreme self of the universe, is absolutely free from the effects of
conduct. But the individual selves, which we call souls, are not, for it
is the effect of conduct in a previous state of existence [Karma] that
decides the character and form of the new life to be lived, or whether
there is to be a new life lived at all, since conduct sufficiently good
entitles to absorption in the one all--Brahman.

It may be objected that Brahman cannot be the creator of this actual
world, for there is in it suffering, injustice, and cruelty. He could
not be the author of these. To which the commentator Sankara answers:
"Brahman is himself, with all his greatness, subject to the operation of
the great moral laws according to which virtue is rewarded and vice
punished. All men are free, and it is their self-chosen conduct that
determines their destiny. This is a law that pervades all existence,
conditions existence, and without which there could be no existence."

It may be again asked: "How can a being with perfect life produce a
world that is lifeless?" In other words, "How can the effect differ from
its cause?" The same commentator replies: "Just as lifeless hair can
grow out of a living man."

Again, it is said, "In the universe Brahman is at once he who enjoys and
he who is enjoyed. How can he be both one and the other--agent and
object?" To which Sankara replies: "It is as possible for these two to
go together as for the ocean to be itself and to be at the same time
foam, waves, billows, and bubbles. The same earth produces diamonds,
rock crystal, and vermilion. Do they differ from the earth?

"The same sun causes plants of various kinds to grow, and the very same
nourishment taken into the body is changed to flesh, hair, nails, etc.
The spider spins its web from its own substance, and spirits assume many
forms when they appear on the earth. All these are but images of the
eternal world-process by which Brahman reveals Himself in souls and in
material objects."

    THE HIGHEST KNOWLEDGE INACCESSIBLE TO LOW
      CASTE MEN

No Sudra [or lowest caste man] is capable of such knowledge as leads to
Brahmanhood [the state of being absorbed in Brahman]. Only the
twice-born[12] are allowed to study the Vedic Scriptures, a knowledge of
which is essential to salvation. The twice-born are likewise alone
permitted to offer sacrifice, for how can a man sacrifice aright who is
ignorant of the sacred scriptures, which are alone adequate for a man's
guidance? If the Sudras, or fourth-caste men, are excluded from the
_summum bonum_ of humanity--absorption in the one great all--how much
more are Pariahs, or non-caste men, deprived of this great boon! Brahman
is the material, as well as the efficient, cause of the world, which
springs from him by way of modification, but is his manifested self and
nothing more.


_BOOK II.--OBJECTIONS TO VEDANTIC DOCTRINES STATED AND REFUTED_


The Vedanta texts, the Vedas and the Upanishads, teach that Brahman is
the one only source of whatever exists outside himself; that his nature
is not only mighty, but also intelligent. The evidence for this supplied
in Book I. is, for the most part, the authority of the above texts; that
which they say must be accepted as "gospel," whatever human reason may
see or say to the contrary.

Book II. begins by stating and answering speculative objections on the
part of Sankhyaists. Though himself intelligence (not merely
intelligent) Brahman may give birth to a non-intelligent world, seeing
that like does not always spring from like [see above].

Atomists hold that there is apparent difference and separateness in
things. "Where, then," they ask, "is the oneness, the monism, for which
the Vedantists argue?" It is replied that it is only superficial thought
that fixes itself upon the manifoldness of things, losing sight of their
oneness. Deeper thought sees underneath the many a oneness which binds
them, and of which they are only the outward expressions. The great
ocean is one, but its waves and ripples are many. All at bottom is but
one: the Universal Being.

A non-intelligent first cause (_Prakriti_), such as the Sankhyaists
postulate, could never call into being an orderly world, for how could
unreason produce reason? Nor could atoms set in motion produce a planned
or intelligent universe, as the Atomists falsely say. There must be an
intelligent power controlling the atoms and contemplating the result to
be attained.

The view put forth by the Sankhya philosophers, that an external and
internal world exists in mutual independence, is contrary to thought and
experience--is, in fact, unthinkable. We know no external world: we have
never had any experience outside the region of our own consciousness;
yet what is regarded as external to the individual consciousness is not
_Maya_, as is taught in some of the Upanishads, and maintained by later
philosophers. This external world as a fact of consciousness is as real
as that consciousness and as the individual mind which makes mental
experience possible, and is the great All, of which the individual mind
is the working and manifestation.

    THE RELATION OF BRAHMAN TO ELEMENTS AND THE
      SOUL

Are the elementary substances (ether, air, etc) co-eternal, with
Brahman, or do they issue from him? It can be shown, and is shown, that
one elementary substance proceeds from another (_e.g._, air from ether),
and that in the last resort all such substances have come forth from
Brahman, who has not only produced them, but also guided and effected
their evolution.

The individual soul is, according to the scriptures [Vedas and
Upanishads], eternal and permanent, and has not been produced by
Brahman; who is, however, as noted, the producer of the elementary
substances. Like Brahman himself, the individual soul is uncreated and
eternal. What is in time and belongs to time is the connection of the
soul with the conditions of space and time. This is the interpretation
given by Sankara. Ramanuga, however, holds that the soul is a creature
of Brahman, though an eternal one, it having existed ever as a mode of
the great All [compare the doctrine of the eternal procession of the
Son].

    WHAT IS SOUL?

What is soul? It is _gna_, or knowledge. [The etymology of both these
latter words is identical--compare Greek _gnosco_, etc.] This means,
according to Sankara, that knowledge is of the very essence of soul, and
not a mere attribute of it. The soul is not merely a knower (_gnatri_),
but it is knowledge. Ramanuga, on the other hand, explains that the
knowledge spoken of in this Sutra means "the knower"; that the soul is
not knowledge, but that which can and does know.

Is the soul limited in size, and capable, therefore, of occupying but a
restricted space? Or is it, on the contrary, omnipresent?

Sankara maintains that the Sutra in question teaches the latter; the
soul is everywhere. Ramanuga makes the same Sutra teach the very
contrary. As a matter of fact, the Sutra in question seems to teach both
these contradictory doctrines, perhaps because it registers different
traditions. Sankara, however, explains further on that as long as the
soul is passing through the changes involved in Samsara [=
transmigration] it is limited and local, but on reaching Brahmanhood it
becomes omnipresent. In this way the great commentator seeks to
reconcile teaching apparently contradictory in this Sutra.

Is this soul an agent? Some of the Sutras say it is, others say it is
not. How are the conflicting statements to be reconciled? Sankara does
this in the following way. As long as the soul is tied down to material
conditions--that is, is passing through the processes of Samsara--it is
an agent. But as soon as it has escaped from this bondage of
transmigration it dwells in a state of perfect repose, inactive and
restful. In all its activities the soul is prompted by Brahman, without
whose inspiration and guidance the soul could perform nothing, and could
never, therefore, reach the true goal of all souls, absorption in the
one All, which can be obtained in no other way than by the performance
of good deeds, which means action.


_BOOK III.--OF THE SOUL AND ITS SUMMUM BONUM_


When at death the soul passes from the body its subtle material elements
still cling to it. Good souls pass on to the moon, whence they
afterwards descend in a form and state determined by their former
actions [Karma]. If the previous life has been a moral failure, the new
life now entered upon will belong to a lower level of being, _i.e._, the
man may become an animal, the higher, animal may become a lower one. On
the other hand, there may be an ascent in the scale of being.

When the soul is a-dreaming, what it thinks it sees and hears, etc., is
all illusion, for it does not see or hear, etc., what it thinks it does.
In a state of profound dreaminess the soul leaves the body and lives in
close fellowship with Brahman.

How is the soul to obtain final release from the thraldom of material
conditions? By meditating on Brahman as he is set forth in the sacred
scriptures. Brahman must be thought about and meditated on in all his
attributes, and this produces identity with the one great self of
existence.

Though Sankara makes this to be the teaching of the Sutras, in another
place he insists that Brahman is without attributes. He is not,
therefore, consistent. The meditation on Brahman which leads to
soul-freedom must have regard also to Brahman's negative qualities,
_i.e._, his not being gross, nor subtle, wise nor foolish, etc.

    THE RELATION OF KNOWLEDGE AND CONDUCT

The knowledge of Brahman is independent of action, and not subordinate
to it. It is _vidya_ [compare _vision_, which has the same etymology],
or knowledge, that is alone prescribed in the holy writings, not
conduct. Where, however, there is right knowledge, there will be
rightness of life. But mere rightness of life is nothing; it is that
which leads to it and is the cause that is alone commanded and commended
[compare the controversy among Christian theologians about faith and
works]. The knowledge which saves and enfranchises may be reached by a
man in this present life, and will be, if the appropriate means are
employed.

    OF BRAHMANHOOD

Meditation is a duty to be observed to the very close of life, and the
amount and intensity of it are the measure of a man's virtue and piety.
When he has reached the full knowledge of Brahman, a man is freed from
the consequences [karma] of all his evil deeds, past, present, and
future. [One would think that the state of Brahmanhood excluded the
possibility of sin, but this Sutra seems to imply the contrary. The
Sutras, however, make a distinction between a lower state of Brahmanhood
and a higher. See below.]

What happens to the knowing one (_vidvan_) at death? The soul of him who
has at death the lower Brahman knowledge merges into the subtler
elements. But when the highest knowledge is attained there is complete
absorption in Brahman. Whoever dies in possession of this highest
knowledge is at once merged in Brahman, and rests eternally and
perfectly in him.

The Upanishads describe the stations on the way which leads up to
Brahman. These stations are to be understood not merely as terminuses of
the various stages of the journey, but they denote also the divine
beings who direct the soul in its progress and enable it to move forward
and upward. According to some Sutras in this book the guardians of the
path conducting to the gods lead the departed soul, not to the highest
Brahman, but to the effected (_karya_), or qualified (_saguna_),
Brahman. But in other Sutras in this book the opposite view is stated
and defended, according to which the _vidvan_, or knower, goes direct to
the highest Brahman without halting anywhere short of that god.

The Sutras teach, on the whole, the doctrine that the enfranchised soul,
being identical with Brahman, is inseparable from him just as a mode of
substance is incapable of existing apart from the substance of which it
is a mode. Ramanuga points out, however, that some of the Sutras in this
book give it clearly to be understood that the freed soul can exist in
isolation and in separation from the great All.

The released soul can enter several bodies at the same time, since it is
not subject to space relations as other souls are.

       *       *       *       *       *



THOMAS A KEMPIS


THE IMITATION OF CHRIST


     Thomas a Kempis, whose family name was Haemmerlein, received
     the name of Kempis from Kempen, in Holland, the place of his
     birth. Either Thomas Haemmerlein or Thomas Kempensis would be
     a more correct name than the form "a Kempis," by which he is
     generally known; and "Musica Ecclesiastica" is the more
     correct title of the "Imitatio Christi." It is not even
     certain that Thomas was the author of it, for the names of
     other authors have been put forward with more or less
     probability; but he was certainly its copyist, and the balance
     of evidence is in favour of his authorship. Thomas was born in
     1379, the son of a shoemaker; entered in 1400 a monastery at
     Agnetenberg, near Zwolle, and died in the monastery on August
     8, 1471, with a great reputation for learning and for
     sanctity. The "Imitation" was completed about 1420. Editions
     and translations in all principal languages are innumerable;
     but the definitive edition is the Latin text by Dr. Carl
     Hirsche, of Hamburg (1874), from which the following epitome
     has been made. The "Imitation" consists of four books of
     meditations, which are among the most priceless treasures of
     Christian literature.


_I.--ADMONITIONS USEFUL TO THE SPIRITUAL LIFE_


"Whoever follows Me does not walk in darkness," says the Lord. These are
the words of Christ by which we are admonished how far we should imitate
His life and manners if we wish to be truly illumined and liberated from
all blindness of heart. Let it, therefore, be our supreme study to
meditate on the life of Jesus Christ.

Vanity of vanities, all things are vanity, except to love God and to
serve Him only. The highest wisdom is to strive towards celestial
kingdoms, through contempt of the world. It is, therefore, vanity to
seek the riches that are about to perish, and to hope in them. It is
vanity also to solicit honours, and to exalt oneself to high place. It
is vanity to follow after the desires of the flesh, and to seek that for
which we must soon be heavily punished. It is vanity to wish a long
life, and to care little about a good life. It is vanity to attend only
to the present life, and not to provide for things which are to come. It
is vanity to love that which passes away so speedily, and not to hasten
thither where eternal joy remains.

Remember often that proverb--"The eye is not satisfied with seeing nor
the ear with hearing." Study, therefore, to withdraw your heart from the
love of visible things, and turn yourself to the invisible. For those
who follow their sensuality stain their conscience, and lose the grace
of God.

Every man naturally desires to know, but what does knowledge signify
without the fear of God? The humble peasant who serves God is far better
than the proud philosopher who neglects himself and considers the
courses of the stars. Whoever knows himself well contemns himself, and
takes no delight in human praise. If I should know all things in the
world, and yet not be in charity, what would it advantage me in the
presence of God, Who is about to judge me for my deeds?

Desist from too much desire of knowing, because great distraction and
deception are found in it. Those who know, desire to seem and to be
called wise. There are many things of which the knowledge is of little
or no value to the soul, and the man is very foolish who turns to other
things than those which subserve his health. Many words do not satisfy
the soul; but a good life cools down the mind, and a good conscience
affords great confidence towards God.

We might have great peace if we did not occupy ourselves with the words
and deeds which are no concern of ours. How can he remain long in peace
who meddles with cares which are foreign to him, who seeks opportunities
without, and recollects himself little or rarely? Blessed are the
simple, for they shall have much peace.

Without charity, an outward work is of value; but whatever is done from
charity, however small and trivial it may be, becomes wholly fruitful.
For God weighs more the source from which an action comes than the work
which it does. He does much who loves much. He does much who does the
deed well. He does well who serves the community rather than his own
will.

That often seems to be charity which is rather carnality; for natural
inclination, one's own will, the hope of reward, and the liking for
comfort are rarely absent. But whoever has true and perfect charity
seeks himself in nothing, but desires only the glory of God. He envies
no one, because he loves no joy of his own, nor cares to rejoice in
himself; but wishes, above all good things, to find felicity in God.
Whoever has a spark of true charity feels at once that all earthly
things are full Of vanity.


_II.--ADMONITIONS LEADING TO INWARD LIFE_


"The kingdom of God is within you," says the Lord. Turn yourself with
your whole heart to the Lord, and leave this miserable world, and your
soul shall find rest. Learn to despise outward things, and to give
yourself to inward things, and you shall see the kingdom of God rise
within you. For the kingdom of God is peace and joy in the Holy Spirit,
and is not given to the impious. Christ shall come to you showing you
His consolation, if you prepare within you a home fit for Him. All His
glory and beauty are from within, and it is there that He delights
Himself. He often visits the man of inward mind, with sweet colloquy,
pleasant consolation, great peace, and most astounding familiarity.

If you know not how to contemplate high and celestial things, rest in
the passion of Christ, and willingly dwell in His holy wounds. For if
you devoutly have recourse to the wounds of Jesus you will feel great
comfort in trouble, care little for human contempt, and easily bear
detracting words. For Christ, in the world, was despised by men, and in
His greatest need was deserted, among insults, by His friends. Christ
willed to suffer and to be despised, and shall you dare to complain of
anything? Christ had enemies and detractors, and do you wish to have all
friends and benefactors? Whence shall your patience be crowned if you
have suffered no adversity? If you desire to suffer nothing contrary to
you, how shall you be the friend of Christ?

He to whom all things taste as they really are, and not as they are
spoken of or esteemed, is the truly wise man, taught by God rather than
by men. Whoever knows how to walk from within, and to put little value
on things without, needs not to find a place nor wait a time for his
devout prayers. The man of inward mind quickly recollects himself,
because he never spends himself wholly upon outward things.

First hold yourself in peace, and then you will be able to pacify
others. The pacific man is of more service than the learned. But the
passionate man turns even good to evil, easily believing evil. The
peaceful man is good, and turns all things to good. The man who is well
at peace is suspicious of nothing, but the discontented and turbulent is
agitated by divers suspicions. He can neither himself be quiet, nor
leave others in quiet. He often says what he ought not to say, and
leaves undone what he ought to do. He thinks about what others ought to
do, and neglects his own duty.

Man is raised from earthly matters by two wings--namely, simplicity and
purity. Simplicity should be in his intention, and purity in his
affection. Simplicity tends towards God, purity takes hold of Him.

Always to do well, and to hold oneself in small esteem, is the mark of a
humble soul. To desire no consolation from any created thing is the sign
of great purity and inward confidence. The man who seeks no witness for
himself from without has plainly committed himself altogether to God.
For "not he who commends himself is approved," says blessed Paul, "but
he whom God commends." To walk with God within, and to be held by no
affection without, is the state of the inwardly-minded man.

Jesus has now many lovers of His celestial kingdom, but few bearers of
His Cross. He has many who desire consolation, but few who desire
tribulation. He finds many companions of His table, but few of His
abstinence. All wish to rejoice with Him; few are willing to bear
anything for Him.

In the Cross is safety; in the Cross is life; in the Cross is protection
from enemies; in the Cross is the sweetness of heaven; in the Cross is
strength of mind; in the Cross is the perfection of sanctity. There is
no health for the soul nor hope of eternal life except in the Cross.
Take up your cross, therefore, and follow Jesus.

If anything were better and more useful for the welfare of men than to
suffer, Christ would have shown it both in His words and in His example.
For He calls to the disciples who follow Him, and to all who desire to
follow Him, and says: "If any will come after Me, let him deny himself,
and lift up his cross and follow Me." When all has been read and
studied, let this be our conclusion--"That through many tribulations we
must enter into the kingdom of God."


_III.--OF INWARD CONSOLATION_


I will hear what the Lord God may say in me. It is a blessed soul which
hears the Lord speaking in it, and receives the word of consolation from
His lips. Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.

"I have taught the prophets from the beginning," says the Lord, "and
until now I have not ceased to speak at all; but many are deaf and hard
to My voice. Many listen more willingly to the world than to God, and
more easily follow the appetite of the flesh than God's good pleasure.
The world promises small and temporary things, and is served with great
eagerness; I promise supreme and eternal things, but the hearts of
mortals are torpid. Who serves and obeys Me in everything with so great
care as the world and its lords are served? Men run a long way for a
trifling reward, but for eternal life many scarcely lift a foot once
from earth."

Lord God, you are all my good. And who am I that I should dare to speak
to you? I am the poorest and least of your servants, a wretched little
worm, far more miserable and contemptible than I know or dare to say,
Yet remember me, Lord, because I am nothing, I have nothing, and am
worth nothing. Do not turn your face from me; do not defer your coming;
do not withdraw your consolation, lest my soul become like a waterless
land before you. Lord, teach me to do your will; teach me to walk
worthily and humbly in your presence; because you are my wisdom, who
truly know me, and knew me before the world was made and before I was
born in the world.

"Son, walk in My presence in truth, and seek Me always in the simplicity
of your heart. Whoever walks in My presence in truth will be kept safe
from the assaults of evil, and truth will liberate him from those who
lead astray and from the detractions of unjust men. If truth shall have
liberated you, then you will be truly free, and you will not care for
the vain words of men."

It is true, Lord, I pray that it may be done with me as you say. Let
your truth teach me and guard me, and keep me to a salutary end. Let it
liberate me from every evil affection and inordinate love, and I shall
walk with you in great liberty of heart.

"I will teach you," says Truth, "what things are right and pleasing in
my Bight. Think on your sins with great displeasure and sorrow, and
never imagine yourself to be anything because of your good works. You
are really a sinner, liable to many passions and entangled in them. Of
yourself, you are always tending to nothingness; you quickly slip, you
are quickly overcome, you are quickly disturbed, you quickly pass away.
You have nothing in which you can glory, but much for which you ought to
hold yourself cheap; you are far more infirm than you are able to
understand.

"Some do not sincerely walk before me, but, led by a certain curiosity
and arrogance, wish to know my secrets, and to understand the high
things of God, neglecting themselves and their welfare. These often fall
into great temptations and sins, when I resist them on account of their
pride and curiosity. Fear the judgments of God; be exceedingly afraid of
the anger of the Omnipotent. Do not discuss the works of the Highest,
but scrutinise your iniquities, and see how gravely you have offended
and how many good deeds you have neglected.

"There are others, enlightened in their minds and purged in their
affections, who are always panting after eternal things and listen
unwillingly to earthly things; these perceive what the spirit of truth
says within them.

"Love is a great thing, altogether a great good, which alone makes light
everything that is heavy, and carries evenly all that is uneven. For it
bears the burden without being burdened, and makes sweet and tasteful
everything that is bitter. The noble love of Jesus drives on to great
deeds, and always excites to the desire of more perfect things. Love
wills to rise upwards, and not to be held back by the lowest things.
Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing is stronger, nothing higher or
broader; nothing is more delightful or fuller in heaven or in earth; for
love is born of God, and cannot rest except in God, above all created
things."


_IV.--DEVOUT EXHORTATION TO HOLY COMMUNION_


The voice of Christ, "Come to Me all who labour and are burdened, and I
will refresh you," says the Lord. "The bread which I will give you is My
flesh for the life of the world. Receive and consume it; this is My body
which will be delivered for you; do this in commemoration of Me. Whoever
eats My flesh and drinks My blood remains in Me, and I in him. The words
which I have spoken to you are spirit and life."

These are your words, Christ, Eternal Truth, although not given at one
time nor written in one place. Because they are yours, and true, they
are all to be received gratefully by me. They are yours, and you
pronounced them; and they are mine also because you uttered them for my
welfare. I gladly accept them from your lips, that they may be more
closely buried in my heart. Words of such kindness, full of sweetness
and love, arouse me. But my own sins frighten me, and my impure
conscience repels me from taking hold of such great mysteries.

You bid me come to you trustfully if I would have part with you; and to
receive the food of immortality if I wish to obtain eternal life and
glory. "Come to Me," you say, "all who labour and are burdened, and I
will refresh you." O sweet and friendly word in the ear of a sinner,
that you, my Lord God, invite the destitute and poor to the communion of
your most holy Body.

Lord, all things in heaven and in earth are yours. I desire to offer
myself as a willing oblation, and to remain yours in perpetuity. Lord,
in the simplicity of my heart I offer myself to you to-day to be for
ever your servant--offer myself for obedience and for a sacrifice of
eternal praise. Receive me with this holy offering of your precious
Body, which I offer to you to-day in the presence of angels, assisting
though unseen, that it may be for my welfare and for the welfare of all
your people.

The voice of the beloved: "God does not deceive you; he is deceived who
trusts too much to himself. God walks with the simple, reveals Himself
to the humble, gives understanding to the feeble, opens His meaning to
pure minds, and hides His grace from the inquisitive and proud. Human
reason is weak and may be deceived, but true faith cannot be deceived.

"All reason and natural investigation ought to follow faith, and not
precede it nor impair it. For faith and love excel here most of all, and
work in hidden ways in, this most holy and transcendent sacrament. The
eternal and immeasurable God of infinite power does great and
inscrutable things in heaven and in earth, and there is no finding out
of His wonderful works. If the works of God were such that they could
easily be seized by human reason, they would not deserve to be called
wonderful or ineffable."

       *       *       *       *       *



THE KORAN


     The Koran, the sacred book of Islam, and of more than a
     hundred millions of men, is the least original of all existing
     sacred books. Muslims agree in believing that it is from
     beginning to end, and word for word, inspired; and that it
     existed before the Creation on what is called the "Preserved
     Tablet." This tablet was brought by the Archangel Gabriel from
     the highest to the lowest heaven, whence it was dictated sura
     [chapter] by sura, verse by verse, and word by word, to the
     Prophet Muhammad. Its matter is, however, taken for the most
     part from the Old Testament, especially the narrative portions
     of the Pentateuch; from the New Testament; from the traditions
     of the ancient Arabs; and also from Zoroastrian and other
     scriptures or traditions. It is not likely that Muhammad used
     literary sources, except in a small measure. But there were
     Jews, Christians, Zoroastrians, and others in and around
     Arabia, and he must have learned from their lips the principal
     doctrines of their respective religions. Nevertheless,
     planless and fragmentary compilation though it be, the Koran,
     particularly in the earlier suras written at Mekka, has much
     of the grandeur and poetry of style and the passionate
     exaltation of a true prophet, the sincerity of whose zeal is
     unquestioned.


_INTRODUCTORY_


The word "Koran," or "Quran,"[13] from a root _qara_ = to read, means
literally "what is to be read," _i.e._, the written authority on all
matters, religions, etc. It is the exact equivalent of the Rabbinical
Hebrew word "Miqra" (from the Hebrew _qara_ = to read). The idea
involved in both the Arabic and Hebrew words is that what is so
designated is the ultimate authority deciding all questions. The Rabbis
of post-Biblical times (compare the Jewish Qabbalah) regarded the Old
Testament as an encyclopaedia of universal knowledge. In the best-known
Muslim universities of modern times philosophy, science, and everything
else are taught from the Koran, which is made in some way to contain
implicitly the latest words of modern thought, invention, and discovery.

The Koran did not exist as a whole until after the Prophet
Muhammad's[14] death. It was then compiled by the order of Abu Bekr, the
first Sunnite Caliph. Its contents were found written on palm leaves
white stones, and other articles capable of being written on. The
compilers depended, to a large extent, upon the memory of the prophet's
first followers, but the Koran, as we now have it, existed without any
appreciable divergence by the end of the first year, after Muhammad's
death (A.D. 632).

This Muslim Bible has no scheme or plan because it is an almost
haphazard compilation of unconnected discourses, uttered on various
unexplained occasions, and dealing with many incidents and themes. There
is practically no editing, and no attempt is made to explain when, or
how, or why the various speeches were delivered.

The earliest native writers and commentators on the Koran arranged its
suras in two main classes: (1) Those uttered at Mekka before the flight
in A.D. 622; (2) those written at Medinah during the next ten years.

Most recent scholars follow the chronological arrangement proposed by
the great Orientalist Noeldeke in 1860. Friedrich Schwally in his newly
revised edition of Noeldeke's great work on the Koran follows his master
in almost every detail. Rodwell's translation of the Koran, recently
issued in "Everyman's Library," arranges the suras chronologically
according to Noeldeke's scheme. In the summaries that follow, it is this
chronological order that is adopted. In the Arabic editions followed by
the well-known and valuable translations of Sale, E.H. Palmer (Clarendon
Press, "Sacred Books of the East," vols. 6 and 9), and others, the
principle adopted is to put the longest suras first and the shortest
last.

The Mekkan suras are much more original than the Medinah ones,
especially those of the first period--_i.e._, those belonging to the
first four years of Muhammad's prophetic mission, _e.g._, suras 96, 74,
etc. In these suras the style is grander, more passionate, and fuller of
poetry. The prophet appears in a state of great mental exaltation, full
of a zeal which no words can adequately express, and of a sincerity
which few scholars have questioned.

The suras of the second period, the following two years of the prophet's
mission (_e.g._, suras 54, 37, etc.), have the same general character,
but are less vehement. Still less vehement and more restrained are the
suras of the third Mekkan period--_i.e._, from the seventh year of the
prophet's mission to his flight in A.D. 622 (_e.g._, suras 32, 41,
etc.). The style of the Medinah suras resembles that of the Mekkan
revelations of the third period, only they are still more matter of fact
and restrained, and are largely made up of appeals to Jews, Christians,
and others to abandon their "unbelief," and to accept the prophet who
had come to them with the true religion, a religion as old as Abraham,
though forgotten for many ages.

The Koran differs from the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments,
including the Apocrypha, in that these latter are much-more varied, as
emanating from many minds, and belonging to very different occasions.
The Koran is, from beginning to end, the effusions (often very wild) of
one man.

The present editor has kept before him the Arabic text of Maracci,
Fluegel, and Redslob, and also several Oriental editions (Cairo,
Constantinople, Calcutta, etc.). But, of course, the best known
translations, and also the native commentaries (Baidhawi, etc.), have
been consulted.

In the summaries which follow, numerals following the paragraphs
indicate the number of the sura or suras in the Arabic text as well as
in Sale's translation.


MEKKAN SURAS

I.--FIRST PERIOD (A.D. 613-617)


_MUHAMMAD'S FIRST CALL TO READ THE KORAN_


In the name of the gracious and compassionate God.[15]

Recite in the name of thy Lord, who created man and taught men to write,
recite what God has revealed to thee His Prophet, and be not afraid.
Consider not the opposition of Abu Gahl, who has threatened to put his
foot on thy neck if thou dost worship Allah. (96.)


_DENUNCIATION OF ABU LAHAB_[16]


Abu Lahab's two hands shall perish, and he himself shall perish. His
wealth shall not avail him, nor all that he has gained. He shall be
burnt in the fiery flames[17] of Hell, his wife carrying wood for fuel,
with a cord of palm-tree fibres twisted round her neck. (III.)


_MUHAMMAD COMMANDED TO OFFER SACRIFICES_


We have given to thee, O Prophet, great wealth and abounding riches.
Pray thou to Allah, and offer Him suitable sacrifices out of what He has
bestowed upon thee. (108.)

[Compare with this paragraph the following, from sura 22 of the Medinah
group:

We have ordained that ye offer sacrifices unto Allah, and that ye
receive much benefit therefrom. When, therefore, ye slay your camels let
the name of Allah be pronounced over them. Then eat of them and give to
those who ask humbly, giving also to the poor and needy who ask not.
Flesh and blood can never reach unto Allah (God), but your obedience and
piety will reach unto Him.]


_BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS_


We will make the path to happiness easy and safe to all such as fear
Allah, and give alms, and believe the truth proclaimed by Allah's
messenger. But we will make easy the path to distress and misery for all
such as are niggardly, are bent on making riches, and deny the truth
when it is proclaimed to them. When these last fall headlong into Hell,
their wealth will avail them nothing. In the burning furnace they shall
burn and broil. (92.)


_THE DUTY OF EXERCISING CHARITY_


Verily, We (God) have created some men in such poverty and distress as
to need the help of others. What does that braggart man mean when he
says, "None shall prevail over me; I have and have scattered riches
boundless"? Does he not know that there is a Divine eye that sees him?
Have not We created him with a capacity of distinguishing between the
two highways, that which descends towards evil, and that which ascends
towards the good? This niggardly man, however, makes no attempt to scale
the heights. What is it to ascend the upward road? It is to free the
prisoner, to feed the hungry, to defend the orphan who is akin, and the
down-trodden poor. Besides this, it is enjoined that men believe in
Allah and His Prophet; that they encourage each other to be steadfast in
the faith, exercising mutual consideration and sympathy. All such as do
these things shall be the people of the right hand. But all those who
disbelieve Our signs shall be the companions of the left hand, over whom
shall be a vault of fire. (90.)


_MUHAMMAD COMMANDED TO ARISE AND PREACH_


O thou mantle-wrapped one, arise and warn the people, and magnify the
Lord. The Day of Judgment will be a sad day for unbelievers. Leave thou
thine enemy in Mine hands, and let Me visit upon him his well deserved
punishment. For he has ridiculed the Koran; he has said: "This is
nothing else than magic, they are the words of a man." I [God] will cast
him into Hell, where he shall burn in torment. The fires of this Hell
leave nothing unconsumed. It scorches men's flesh. We have appointed
nineteen angels as guardians over Hell fire. But why nineteen? That
believers may be sure of the veracity of this Book, and that unbelievers
may have occasion for denying the divinity of the Koran, saying: "What
means this number?" (74.)


_THE KORAN GIVEN TO MUHAMMAD_


Verily, We have brought down to Muhammad the Koran on the Night of
Power.[18] This one Night of Power is better than a thousand months. On
that night did Gabriel and the angels descend and reveal to Our Prophet
all the words of the Koran. (97.)


_MUHAMMAD NOT MAD NOR AN IMPOSTOR_


Believe thou not, O Messenger of Mine, when they say, "Thou art bereft
of thy senses," when they charge thee with imposture. Thy Lord knoweth
who are bereft of their senses, and who are the impostors. Warn thou
those maligners of the awful judgment which awaits them. (68.)


_GOD'S PROMISE TO HELP MUHAMMAD TO RECITE THE KORAN_


We [Allah] shall enable thee to remember all the parts of the Koran, so
that thou mayest recite them for the encouragement of those who believe
and as a warning to all unbelievers. Nor shalt thou forget aught of this
Revelation except what We please.[19] All those who fear God will
receive the prophet's warning, but all those who disbelieve shall be
cast into terrible fire where they will neither live nor die. This
doctrine which We command thee to preach is that taught in the ancient
Books, the Books of Abraham and of Moses, who were faithful Muslims.
(87.)


_THE KORAN INSPIRED_


By the falling star, your comrade Muhammad does not err, nor does he
speak his own mind. What he utters has been revealed to him. The Koran
is from God through Gabriel; it is not the work of man. Why worship ye
goddesses like Allat and Al'Uzza and Manah? There are no goddesses.[20]
(53.)


_THE TREATMENT OF WOMEN BELIEVERS_


When believing women come to you as fugitives, leaving behind them
unbelieving husbands, send them not back to the infidels, but test their
faith, and if they are found true Muslims, pay back to their husbands
the dowries which they have expended. Then may ye marry them, provided
ye give them the accustomed dowries. (60.)


_GOD'S UNITY_[21]


Say "He is but one God, the everlasting God who begets not,[22] nor is
begotten, and there is none like unto Him." (10.)


_FORMULae OF EXORCISM_


I flee for refuge to the Lord, that He may protect me against the evil
things which He has created. Against night goblins when the night comes
on, and from witches who bind by their magic knots, and from such as
injure by the evil eye; I seek refuge with the Lord from charmers, from
jinns [demons], and from evil men. (113.)


_THE HEAVEN OF THE MUSLIMS_


All who believe in Allah and His Prophet shall be admitted hereafter
into delightful gardens [Paradise]. They shall repose for ever on
couches decked with gold and precious stones, being supplied with
abundance of luscious wine, fruits of the choicest variety, and the
flesh of birds. They shall be accompanied by damsels of unsurpassed
beauty, with large black, pearl-like eyes. (56.)


II.--SECOND PERIOD (A.D. 617-619)


_WINDS AND DEMONS SUBJECT TO SOLOMON_


And We made a strong wind subject to Solomon, so that it conveyed him
whither he would. We also gave him the power of commanding demons, so
that they dived into the sea to bring him pearls, and did everything
else that he wished.[23] (21.)


_THE MIRACULOUS BIRTH OF JESUS_


Remember Mary, who preserved her virginity, and into whom We breathed
Our own spirit, so that when her son Isa [Jesus] was born, mother and
son became a sign unto all mankind. (21.)


_THE VIRGIN MARY_


After Mary, the Virgin, had begotten her son Isa [Jesus] she was found
one day carrying the child in her arms when some pious men met her and
rebuked her, saying: "O Mary, thou sister of Aaron,[24] what is this
strange thing thou hast done? Thy father Amram was an upright man, and
thy mother was no harlot, as thou seemest to be." In answer to all this
the infant child, not having previously lisped a syllable, said,
"Verily, I am the servant of Allah, who has given me the Book of the
Gospel, and appointed me to be His Prophet. He has made me blessed, and
to be a blessing. Happy the day wherein I was born, and the day wherein
I shall die, and the day whereon I shall be raised again." (19.)


_DEVILS SENT BY GOD TO MAKE MEN SIN_


De ye not know that We [God] send devils against the unbelievers to move
them, by their suggestions, to the sin of which these unbelievers become
guilty? (19.)


_SOLOMON'S ARMY OF MEN, BIRDS, AND JINNS (DEMONS)_


Solomon was able to understand the speech of birds and to make them
understand his speech.[25] There gathered to him on a certain day his
entire army of men, birds, and jinns in the Valley of Ants. The crowd
was so great that one of the ants said to his fellows, "Get you at once
into your ant-homes, or you will be trampled to death by one of these
myriad feet."


_THE QUEEN OF SHEBA'S VISIT TO SOLOMON_


Solomon, one day reviewing his varied troops, missed among the birds the
hoopoe, and asked whither this bird had gone, threatening all manner of
punishments for his absence. Soon the missing bird came flying to the
king, uttering the words, "I have just come from Sheba, where I have
looked upon the most wonderful queen, sitting upon the most magnificent
throne that I have ever set eyes on. But this queen and her subjects,
unfortunately, worshipped not Allah, the true God, but the sun."

"I will test the truth of thy words!" replied the angry monarch. "Take
thou this note of mine to the queen thou laudest so highly, bidding her
come to my kingdom to acknowledge my authority."

Almost in a twinkling the hoopoe was back with the queen's answer
consenting to visit Solomon and his dominions. Solomon, having received
this answer, asked the nobles of his kingdom, "Which of you will bring
me at once the Queen of Sheba's throne, to be here before she arrives?"

"I will!" said one of the wickedest of the jinns.

"And so will I, in a whiff!" answered a jinn that was well acquainted
with the Scriptures.

In a very short time the throne was in Solomon's palace. "Alter ye it,"
said the king, "as much as ye may, to see whether she has any
supernatural knowledge to identify it."

When the queen arrived, she was asked, "What throne is this?"

She replied, "It is mine--strangely mine." After she had witnessed the
glory and wisdom of Solomon, she gave up her idols, and became the
worshipper of Allah, the true God. (27.)


III.--THIRD PERIOD (A.D. 619-622)


_PUNISHMENT FOR VIOLATING THE SABBATH_


Ye know how We tested and proved those wicked people who dwelt in Elath
on the Red Sea. On the Sabbath day We made the fish come right up to
them, as if asking to be caught; but not so on other days. Those who
yielded to the temptation, and thus violated the sanctity of the sacred
day, We turned into apes as a punishment for their wrong-doing. (7.)


_MOUNT SINAI SHAKEN ABOVE THE ISRAELITES_


When the Israelites doubted the authority of the Law which We had given
them through Moses, Our servant, We caused Mount Sinai to rear itself
above them as a covering, so that the people feared it was going to fall
upon them. And We said to them, "Receive ye with reverence that Law
which We have given you, and remember what is contained therein, taking
heed thereto."[26] (7.)


MEDINAH SURAS

_SALVATION FOR OTHERS THAN MUSLIMS_


All such as believe in Allah and in the last day, and who do that which
is right, whether they are Jews, Christians, Sabeans, or Muslims, shall
have their reward from Allah, who will take away from them all fear and
grief. (3.)


_Muslims Only to be Saved_


No one that follows any other religion than Islam will be accepted by
God or saved from perishing in the life that is to come. (2.)


_ABRAHAM, ISHMAEL, ISAAC, JACOB, AND THE TRIBES OF ISRAEL ALL MUSLIMS_


Do ye Jews say that Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, and the tribes of
Israel were Jews, or do ye Christians say that they were Christians? But
God knows better, and has revealed to you the truth that all these were
Muslims, followers of the religion of Islam. But God is cognisant of
your unbelief, and will bring you to account. (2.)


_THE QIBLAH CHANGED FROM JERUSALEM TO MEKKA_


Foolish men will say, "Why have they changed the Qiblah[27] from
Jerusalem to the Kaabah[28] in Mekka?" Say to them, "God's is the east
and the west, and He has commanded us to turn our face, when we pray, to
the sacred mosque at Mekka." (2.)


_AGAINST JEWS AND CHRISTIANS, WHO CAPRICIOUSLY CHOOSE AND REJECT WHAT
DIVINE REVELATIONS THEY PLEASE_


Why, then, do ye believe part only of the Book, and deny that part which
authenticates the mission of the Prophet of Allah? All those who are
guilty of this sin shall have shame in this life, and on the
Resurrection Day shall be driven into the most excrutiating torments.
(2.)


_THE MEKKA TEMPLE FOUNDED BY ABRAHAM_


It was Abraham, our father, who first entered the Kaabah sanctuary at
Mekka, and it is our bounden duty, if at all able, to visit this sacred
house. (3.)


_JESUS PREDICTS THE COMING OF MUHAMMAD_


Jesus, Mary's Son, said, "O Israelites, I am Allah's Apostle, sent to
confirm the Law of the Old Testament, and to bring you good tidings of a
great Apostle to come after me, whose name is Ahmad."[29] (61.)


_MUHAMMAD THE LAST AND GREATEST OF GOD'S MESSENGERS_


In the former times We sent Our apostles with convincing arguments and
all decisive miracles, and We gave them the Scriptures. We sent to men
Noah, Abraham, and the prophets, but many believed not. Then We sent Our
apostles, after whom came Jesus, Son of Mary. Then, last of all, came
Our great apostle, Muhammad. O all ye believers, fear God and obey the
words of Allah's messenger. (57.)


_THE KORAN CONSISTENT THROUGHOUT_


Why do they not carefully and impartially consider the Koran? If it had
not been wholly of God, unbelievers would have been able to find out
contradictions. (4.)


_MUHAMMAD CONTRADICTS THE FACT OF THE CRUCIFIXION OF CHRIST_


Christians say that Christ Jesus, Son of Mary, was slain. But He was not
slain, nor crucified, but another was taken for Him. The true Isa
[Jesus] was taken up by God unto Himself, not seeing death. (4.)


_MUHAMMAD ADMITS THE FACT OF THE CRUCIFIXION OF CHRIST_


And God said, "O Isa [Jesus], I will cause Thee to die, but I will take
Thee up to Myself and deliver Thee from unbelievers!" (4.)


_ONE GOD, NOT THREE GODS, ACCORDING TO THE SCRIPTURE_


O ye who have received the Scriptures, do not believe more than these
sacred writings teach! Jesus, Son of Mary, was God's Apostle, His Word,
a spirit proceeding from God. Do not say there are three gods--Allah,
Isa, and Mary.[30] There is but one God, and He can have no son. (4.)


_FORBIDDEN FOOD_


Ye are forbidden to eat that which dies of itself, blood, swine's flesh,
and that on which the name of any other god than Allah has been
invoked;[31] that which has been strangled, or killed by a blow, or by a
fall, or what has been gored to death, and whatever has been sacrificed
to idols. (5.)


_DIVINATION BY ARROWS CONDEMNED_


It is not allowed you to make division by casting lots with arrows.


_DENIAL OF THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST AND THE TRINITY_


Those are unbelievers who say that God is the Christ [lit., Messiah],
Son of Mary. Nay, this Christ Himself said, "O Israelites, worship God,
My Lord and yours!" He who associates with God any companion His equal
shall be excluded from Paradise, and have his place in Hell fire. (5.)


_Jesus Denies that He and His Mother were Gods_


At the last day God will say unto Isa, "O Isa, Son of Mary, didst Thou
say unto men, 'Take Me and My Mother for two Gods in addition to
Allah'?" And He shall answer, "Praise be unto Thee. Thou knowest all
things, and Thou knowest that I commanded men to worship Allah alone."

       *       *       *       *       *



CARDINAL NEWMAN


APOLOGIA PRO VITa SUA


     That most remarkable ecclesiastic of the nineteenth century,
     John Henry Newman, born in London on February 21, 1801, was of
     Dutch extraction, but the name itself, at one time spelt
     "Newmann," suggests Hebrew origin. His mother came of a
     Huguenot family, long established in England as engravers and
     paper manufacturers. His early education he obtained at a
     school at Ealing, where he distinguished himself by diligence
     and good conduct, as also by a certain aloofness and shyness.
     The only important incident Newman connects with this period
     is his "conversion," an incident more certain to him "than
     that he had hands and feet." In 1820 he graduated at Trinity
     College, Oxford. The various phases of his religious career
     are amply set forth in his famous "Apologia pro Vita Sua"
     ("Apology for His Life"), afterwards called "A History of my
     Religious Opinions." The work was called out by an attack, in
     January, 1864, by Charles Kingsley, in a review of Froude's
     "History of England." Kingsley wrote: "Truth, for its own
     sake, had never been a virtue with the Roman clergy. Father
     Newman informs us that it need not, and, on the whole, ought
     not to be." Challenged to withdraw or substantiate this
     charge, Kingsley did neither, whereupon Newman, after much
     correspondence, wrote his "Apologia," which was published in
     bi-monthly parts. Newman died on August 11, 1890.


_I.--HISTORY OF MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS TO 1833_


I was brought up to delight in the Bible, but I had no formed religious
convictions till I was fifteen. Of course, I had a perfect knowledge of
my Catechism. But when I was fifteen I fell under the influence of a
definite creed, and believed that the inward conversion of which I was
conscious, and of which I am still more certain than that I have hands
and feet, would last into the next life, and that I was elected to
eternal glory. This belief faded away at the age of twenty-one; but it
had had some influence on my opinions, in isolating me from the objects
which surrounded me, in confirming my mistrust of the reality of
material phenomena, and in making me rest in the thought of two, and two
only, absolute and luminously self-evident beings, myself and my
Creator. At the age of fifteen also I was deeply impressed by the works
of Thomas Scott, by Law's "Serious Call," by Joseph Milner's "Church
History," and by Newton, "On the Prophecies." Newton's book stained my
imagination, till 1843, with the doctrine that the Pope was Antichrist.
At this same time, the autumn of 1816, I realised that it would be the
will of God that I should lead a single life, and this anticipation
strengthened my feeling of separation from the visible world.

In 1822, at Oxford, I came under new influences. Dr. Hawkins, then vicar
of St. Mary's, a man of most exact mind, led me to the doctrine of
tradition, and taught me to anticipate that before many years there
would be an attack made upon the books and the canon of Scripture. He
gave me Summer's "Treatise on Apostolic Preaching," by which I was led
to give up my remaining Calvinism, and to receive the doctrine of
baptismal regeneration. I now read Butler's "Analogy," from which I
learned two principles which underlie much of my teaching: first, that
the idea of an analogy between the separate works of God leads to the
conclusion that the less important system is sacramentally connected
with the more momentous system; and secondly, Butler's doctrine that
probability is the guide of life led me to the question of the logical
cogency of faith.

I owe much to Dr. Whately, who taught me the existence of the Church as
a substantive corporation, and fixed in me those anti-Erastian views of
Church polity which characterized the Tractarian movement. That
movement, unknown to ourselves, was taking form. Its true author, John
Keble, had left Oxford for a country parish, but his "Christian Year"
had waked a new music in the hearts of thousands. His creative mind
repeated, in a new form, Butler's two principles: that material
phenomena are the types and instruments of real things unseen; and that,
in religious certitude, faith and love give to probability a force which
it has not in itself.

Hurrell Froude, one of his pupils and a man of high genius, taught me to
venerate the Church of Rome and to dislike the Reformation. About 1830 I
set to work on "The Arians of the Fourth Century," and the broad
philosophy of Clement and Origen, based on the mystical or sacramental
principle, came like music to my inward ear.

Great events were now happening at home and abroad. There had been a
revolution in France, and the reform agitation was going on around me as
I wrote. The vital question was, how were we to keep the Church from
being liberalised? I saw that reformation principles were powerless to
rescue her. I ever kept before me that there was something greater than
the Establishd Church, and that was the Church Catholic and Apostolic,
of which she was but the local presence and the organ. She was nothing,
unless she was this. I was now disengaged from college duties; my health
had suffered from work; and in December, 1832, I joined Hurrell Froude
and his father, who were going to the south of Europe. I went to various
coasts of the Mediterranean. I saw nothing but what was external; of the
hidden life of Catholics I knew nothing. England was in my thoughts
solely, and the success of the liberal cause fretted me. The thought
came upon me that deliverance is wrought not by the many but by the few,
not by bodies but by persons.

I began to think that I had a mission. I reached England on July 9, and
on July 14 Mr. Keble preached in the university pulpit on "National
Apostasy." This day was the start of the religious movement of 1833.


_II.--WITH THE TRACTARIANS_


A movement had begun in opposition to the danger of liberalism which was
threatening the religion of the nation. Mr. Keble, Hurrell Froude, Mr.
William Palmer, Mr. Arthur Purceval, Mr. Hugh Rose, and other zealous,
and able men had united their counsels. I had the exultation of health
restored, a joyous energy which I never had before or since. And I had a
supreme confidence in our cause; we were upholding that primitive
Christianity which was delivered for all time by the early teachers of
the Church. Owing to this supreme confidence, my behaviour had a mixture
in it both of fierceness, and of sport, and on this account it gave
offence to many.

The three propositions about which I was so confident were as follow:
First was the principle of dogma; my battle was with liberalism--and by
liberalism I mean the anti-dogmatic principle and its developments. I
have changed in many things, but not in this; religion, as a mere
sentiment, has been to me from childhood a dream and a mockery.
Secondly, I was confident that there was a visible Church, with
sacraments and rites which are the channels of invisible grace. Here,
again, I have not changed. But, thirdly, I held a view of the Church of
Rome which I have utterly renounced since.

The attack of liberalism upon the university and upon the old orthodoxy
of England began in 1834. Thus, in a pamphlet by Dr. Hampden it was
maintained that religion is distinct from theological opinion, that it
is but a common prejudice to identify theological propositions with the
simple religion of Christ; and so on. The tracts were widely read and
discussed, but the counter-attack against liberalism was not a power
until Dr. Pusey joined us. His great learning, his immense diligence,
his simple devotion to the cause of religion, no less than his great
influence in the university, at once gave us a position and a name. He
taught us that there ought to be more sense of responsibility in the
tracts and in the whole movement. Under his influence I wrote a work
defining our relation to the Church of Rome, namely, "The Prophetical
Office of the Church viewed relatively to Romanism and to Popular
Protestantism." The subject of this volume, published in 1837, is the
"Via Media." This was followed by my "Essay on Justification," and other
works; and so I went on for years up to 1841. It was, in a human point
of view, the happiest time of my life. We prospered and spread.

But the movement was to come into collision with the nation, and with
the Church of the nation. In 1838 my bishop made some light
animadversions on the tracts. But my tract on the Thirty-nine Articles,
designed to show that the Articles do not oppose Catholic teaching, and
but partially oppose Roman dogma, while they do oppose the dominant
errors of Rome, brought down, in 1839, a storm of indignation throughout
the country. I saw that my place in the movement was lost.


_III.--A THEOLOGICAL DEATH-BED_


In the long vacation of 1839 I began to study the history of the
Monophysites, and was-absorbed in the doctrinal question. It was during
this course of reading that for the first time a doubt came upon me of
the tenableness of Anglicism, and by the end of August I was seriously
alarmed. My stronghold was antiquity; yet here, in the fifth century, I
found Christendom of the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries reflected.

The drama of religion and the combat of truth and error were ever one
and the same; the principles of the Roman Church now were those of the
Church then; the principles of heretics then were those of Protestants
now; there was an awful similitude. Be my soul with the saints! In the
same month the words of St. Augustine were pointed out to me, _"Securus
judicat orbis terrarum";_ they struck me with a power which I had never
felt from any words before; the theory of the "Via Media" was absolutely
pulverised.

In the summer of 1841, in retirement at Littlemore, I received three
blows which broke me. First, in the history of the Arians I found the
same phenomena which I had found in the Monophysites: the pure Arians
were the Protestants, the semi-Arians were the Anglicans, and Rome now
was what it was then. Secondly, the bishops, one after another, began to
charge against me in a formal, determinate movement. Third, it was
proposed by Anglican authorities to establish an Anglican bishopric in
Jerusalem--a step which amounted to a formal denial that the Anglican
Church was a branch of the Catholic Church, and to a formal assertion
that the Anglican was a Protestant Church. The Jerusalem bishopric
brought me to the beginning of the end.

From the end of 1841 I was on my death-bed, as regards my membership of
the Anglican Church, though at the time I became aware of it only by
degrees. A death-bed has scarcely a history; it is a tedious decline,
with seasons of rallying and seasons of falling back. My position at
first was this: I had given up my place in the movement in the spring of
1841, but I could not give up my duties towards the many and various
minds who had been brought into it by me; I expected gradually to fall
back into lay communion; I never contemplated leaving the Church of
England; I could not hold office in its service if I were not allowed to
hold the Catholic sense of the Articles; I could not go to Rome while
she suffered honours to be paid to the Blessed Virgin and the saints
which I thought in my conscience to be incompatible with the supreme
glory of the One, Infinite and Eternal; I desired a union with Rome
under conditions, Church with Church; I called Littlemore my Torres
Vedras, and thought that some day we might advance again within the
Anglican Church; I kept back all persons who were disposed to go to Rome
with all my might.

The "Via Media" was now an impossible idea; I abandoned that old ground,
and took another. I said, "Much as Roman Catholics may denounce us at
present as schismatical, they could not resist us if the Anglican
communion had but that one note of the Church upon it--sanctity." I was
pleased with my new view, but my friends were naturally offended at a
novel line of argument which substituted a sort of methodistic
self-contemplation for the plain and honest tokens of a divine mission
in the Anglican Church.

In spite of my ingrained fears of Rome, in spite of my affection for
Oxford and Oriel, yet I had a secret longing love of Rome, the Mother of
English Christianity. It was the consciousness of this bias in myself
which made me preach so earnestly against the danger of being swayed in
religious inquiry by our sympathy rather than by our reason. I was in
great perplexity, and hardly knew where I stood; I incurred the charge
of weakness from some men, and of mysteriousness and underhand dealing
from the majority. But I have never had any suspicion of my own honesty.

In July, 1844, I wrote to a friend: "I am far more certain, according to
the fathers, that we _are_ in a state of culpable separation than that
developments do _not_ exist under the Gospel, and that the Roman
developments are not the true ones." I then saw that the principle of
development was discernible from the first years of the Catholic
teaching up to the present day. I came to the conclusion that there was
no medium, in true philosophy, between atheism and Catholicity, and that
a perfectly consistent mind must embrace either the one or the other. I
saw that no valid reasons could be assigned for continuing in the
Anglican Church, and that no Valid objections could be taken to joining
the Roman.

In February, 1843, I had made a formal retraction of all the hard things
which I had said against the Church of Rome, and in September I had
resigned the living of St. Mary's, Littlemore included. I began my
"Essay on the Development of Doctrine" in the beginning of 1845, and was
hard at it till October. Before I got to the end, I resolved to be
received into the Catholic Church. Father Dominic came to Littlemore on
October 8, and did for me this charitable service. I left Oxford for
good on February 23, 1846.


_IV.--THE FAITH OF A CATHOLIC_


From the time that I became a Catholic of course I have no further
history of my religious opinions to narrate. I do not mean that I have
given up thinking on theological subjects, but that I have had no
variations to record, and have had no anxiety of heart whatever. I have
been in perfect peace; I never have had one doubt.

Nor had I any trouble about receiving those additional articles which
are not found in the Anglican creed. I am far from denying that every
article of the Christian creed is beset with difficulties, and it is
simple fact that I cannot answer those difficulties. But ten thousand
difficulties do not make one doubt. Of all points of faith, the being of
a God is encompassed with most difficulty, and yet borne in upon our
minds with most power.

Starting, then, with the being of a God, which is as certain to me as my
own existence, I look out of myself into the world of men, and there I
see a sight which fills me with unspeakable distress. The world seems
simply to give the lie to that great truth, of which my whole being is
so full; I look into this living, busy world, and see no reflection of
its Creator. To consider the world in its length and breadth, its
various history; the progress of things, as if from unreasoning
elements, not towards final causes; the greatness and littleness of man,
his far-reaching aims, his short duration, the curtain hung over his
futurity, the defeat of good, the prevalence and intensity of sin, the
dreary, hopeless irreligion--all this is a vision to dizzy and appal,
and inflicts upon the mind the sense of a profound mystery which is
absolutely beyond human solution. What shall be said to this
heart-piercing, reason-bewildering fact? I can only answer, that either
there is no Creator, or this living society of men is in a true sense
discarded from His presence.

And now, supposing it were the blessed will of the Creator to interfere
in this anarchical condition of things, what would be the methods which
might be necessarily or naturally involved in His purpose of mercy? What
must be the face-to-face antagonist, by which to withstand and baffle
the fierce energy and passion and the all-corroding, all-dissolving
scepticism of the intellect in religious inquiries? There is nothing to
surprise the mind, if He should think fit to introduce a power into the
world, invested with the prerogative of infallibility in religious
matters. Such a provision would be a direct, immediate, active, and
prompt means of withstanding the difficulty; and when I find that this
is the very claim of the Catholic Church, not only do I feel no
difficulty in admitting the idea, but there is a fitness in it which
recommends it to my mind.

I am defending myself from the charge that I, as a Catholic, not only
make profession to hold doctrines which I cannot possibly believe in my
heart, but that I also believe in a power on earth, which at its own
will imposes upon men any new set of _credenda_, when it pleases, by a
claim to infallibility; and that the necessary effect of such a
condition of mind must be a degrading bondage, or a bitter inward
rebellion relieving itself in secret infidelity, or the necessity of
ignoring the whole subject of religion in a sort of disgust, and of
mechanically saying everything that the Church says. But this is far
from the result; it is far from borne out by the history of the conflict
between infallibility and reason in the past, and the prospect in the
future.

The energy of the human intellect thrives and is joyous, with a tough,
elastic strength, under the terrible blows of the divinely fashioned
weapon. Protestant writers consider that they have all the private
judgment to themselves, and that we have the superincumbent oppression
of authority. But this is not so; it is the vast Catholic body itself,
and it only, which affords an arena for both combatants in that awful,
never-dying duel. St. Paul says that his apostolical power is given him
to edification, and not to destruction. There can be no better account
of the infallibility of the Church. Its object is, and its effect also,
not to enfeeble the freedom or vigour of human thought in religious
speculation, but resist and control its extravagance.

I will go on in fairness to say what I think _is_ the great trial to the
reason when confronted with that august prerogative of the Catholic
Church. The Church claims, not only to judge infallibly on religious
questions, but to animadvert on opinions in secular matters which bear
upon religion, on matters of philosophy, of science, of literature, of
history, and it demands our submission to her claim. In this province,
taken as a whole, it does not so much speak doctrinally, as enforce
measures of discipline.

I will go on to say further, that, in spite of all the most hostile
critics may urge about these verities of high ecclesiastics in time
past, in the use of their power, I think that the event has shown, after
all, that they were mainly in the right, and that those whom they were
hard upon were mainly in the wrong. There is a time for everything, and
many a man desires a reformation of an abuse, or the fuller development
of a doctrine, or the adoption of a particular policy, but forgets to
ask himself whether the right time for it is come.

There is only one other subject which I think it necessary to introduce
here, as bearing upon the vague suspicions which are attached in this
country to the Catholic priesthood. It is one of which my accusers have
before now said much--the charge of reserve and economy. I come to the
direct question of truth, and of the truthfulness of Catholic priests
generally in their dealings with the world, as bearing on the general
question of their honesty, and of their internal belief in their
religious professions. First, I will say that when I became a Catholic,
nothing struck me more at once than the English outspoken manner of the
priests. There was nothing of that smoothness or mannerism which is
commonly imputed to them. Next, I was struck, when I had more
opportunity of judging of the priests, by the simple faith in the
Catholic creed and system, of which they always give evidence, and which
they never seemed to feel in any sense at all to be a burden.

Vague charges against us are drawn from our books of moral theology. St.
Alfonso Liguori, for instance, lays down that an equivocation is
allowable in an extraordinary case. I avow at once that in this
department of morality, I like the English rule of conduct better. Yet,
great English authors, Jeremy Taylor, Milton, Paley, Johnson, distinctly
say that under extraordinary circumstances it is allowable to tell a
lie. Would anyone give ever so little weight to these statements, in
forming an estimate of the veracity of the writers? And, in fact, it is
notorious from St. Alfonso's life that he had one of the most scrupulous
and anxious of consciences; and, further, he was originally in the law,
and was betrayed on one occasion by accident into what seemed like a
deceit, and this was the very occasion of his leaving the profession.

If Protestants wish to know what our real teaching is, let them look at
the Catechism of the Council of Trent. Let me appeal also to the life of
St. Philip Neri, founder of the Oratory: "As for liars, he could not
endure them, and he was continually reminding his spiritual children to
avoid them as they would a pestilence."

These are the principles on which I have acted before I was a Catholic,
these are the principles which, I trust, will be my stay and guidance to
the end.

       *       *       *       *       *



THOMAS PAINE


THE AGE OF REASON


     In 1774, Thomas Paine, thirty-seven years of age, landed
     unknown and penniless in the American colonies. Born at
     Thetford, Norfolk, England, Jan. 29, 1737, of poor Quaker
     parents, he had tried many occupations, and had succeeded in
     none. Within two years he had become an intellectual leader of
     the American Revolution. Beginning his literary career with an
     attack on slavery, he continued it in 1776 by publishing his
     pamphlet "Common Sense," which gave an electric inspiration to
     the cause of separation and republicanism among the colonists.
     After serving the new commonwealth in office and with his pen,
     he went to France on an official mission in 1781; then
     returned to his native England, intent on furthering his
     views. In 1793 Paine wrote the first part of "The Age of
     Reason," which aroused a storm of indignation, but undaunted,
     he added a second and a third part to the work, consisting
     mostly of amplifications of some of the contentions advanced
     in the first part, in the writing of which Paine had no Bible
     to consult. The book, the first part of which was published in
     1794, the second part in 1795, and the third in 1801, is an
     exposition of Deism on a purely scientific basis; the visible
     creation was everything to Paine in his reasonings, the
     religious hopes, fears and aspirations of men were nothing at
     all--this universal human phenomenon was curtly dismissed by
     him as a universal human delusion. Many of his comments on the
     Bible were rather crude anticipations of the modern Higher
     Criticism. But in dealing with the Bible, Paine showed the
     animus of a prosecuting counsel rather than the impartiality
     of a judge. His stormy life ended on July 8, 1809. (See also
     ECONOMICS, Vol. XIV.)


_I.--REVEALED RELIGION_


It has been my intention, for several years past, to publish my thoughts
upon religion. As several of my colleagues, and others of my fellow
citizens of France, have given me the example of making their voluntary
and individual profession of faith, I also will make mine; and I do this
with all that sincerity and frankness with which the mind of man
communicates with itself.

I believe in one God, and no more; and I hope for happiness beyond this
life.

I believe in the equality of man, and I believe that religious duties
consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavouring to make our
fellow-creatures happy.

I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish Church, by the
Roman Church, by the Greek Church, by the Turkish Church, by the
Protestant Church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my
own church.

All national institutions of churches appear to me no other than human
inventions set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolise power
and profit.

Each of those churches show certain books which they call "revelation,"
or the word of God. The Jews say that the word of God was given by God
to Moses face to face; the Christians say that their word of God came by
divine inspiration; and the Turks say their word of God (the Koran) was
brought by an angel from heaven. Each of these churches accuses the
other of unbelief; and, for my own part, I disbelieve them all.

As it is necessary to affix right ideas to words, I will, before I
proceed further into the subject, offer some observations on the word
revelation. Revelation, when applied to religion, means something
communicated immediately from God to man.

No one will deny or dispute the power of the Almighty to make such a
communication if he pleases. But admitting, for the sake of a case, that
something has been revealed to a certain person, and not revealed to any
other person, it is revelation to that person only.

When he tells it to a second person, a second to a third, a third to a
fourth, and so on, it ceases to be a revelation to all those persons. It
is a revelation to the first person only, and hearsay to every other;
consequently they are not obliged to believe it, for they have only the
word of the first person that it was made to him.

The world has been amused with the terms "revealed religion," and the
generality of priests apply this term to the books called the Old and
New Testament. There is no man that believes in revealed religion
stronger than I do; but it is not the reveries of the Old and New
Testament that I dignify with that sacred title. That which is a
revelation to me exists in something which no human mind can invent, no
human hand can counterfeit or alter.

The word of God is the Creation we behold; and this word of God
revealeth to man all that is necessary for him to know of his Creator.

Do we want to contemplate his power? We see it in the immensity of his
creation.

Do we want to contemplate his wisdom? We see it in the unchangeable
order by which the incomprehensible whole is governed.

Do we want to contemplate his munificence? We see it in the abundance
with which he fills the earth.

Do we want to contemplate his mercy? We see it in his not withholding
that abundance even from the unthankful.

Do we want to contemplate his will, so far as it respects man? The
goodness he shows to all is a lesson for our conduct to each other.

In fine, do we want to know what God is? Search not the book called the
Scripture, which any human hand might make, but the Scripture called the
Creation.


_II.--THEOLOGY AND RELIGION_


As to the Christian system of faith, it appears to me as a compound made
up chiefly of manism with but little Deism, and is near to Atheism as
twilight is to darkness.

That which is now called natural philosophy, embracing the whole circle
of science, of which astronomy occupies the chief place, is the study of
the works of God, and of the power and wisdom of God in his works, and
is the true theology.

As to the theology that is now studied in its place, it is the study of
human opinions and of human fancies concerning God. It is not the study
of God Himself in the works that He has made, but in the works or
writings that man has made; and it is not among the least of the
mischiefs that the Christian system has done to the world that it has
abandoned the original and beautiful system of theology, like a
beautiful innocent, to distress and reproach, to make room for the bag
of superstition.

It is an inconsistency, scarcely possible to be credited, that anything
should exist under the name of a religion that held it to be irreligious
to study and contemplate the structure of the universe that God had
made. But the fact is too well established to be denied. The event that
served more than any other to break the first link in the long chain of
despotic ignorance is that known by the name of the Reformation by
Luther. From that time, though it does not appear to have made part of
the intention of Luther, or of these who are called Reformers, the
sciences began to revive, and liberality, their natural associate, began
to appear. This was the only public good the Reformation did; for with
respect to religious good it might as well not have taken place. The
mythology still continued the same; and the multiplicity of national
popes grew out of the downfall of the Pope of Christendom.

The prejudice of unfounded belief often degenerates into the prejudice
of custom, and becomes at last rank hypocrisy. When men from custom or
fashion, or any worldly motive profess or pretend to believe what they
do not believe, nor can give any reason for believing, they unship the
helm of their morality, and, being no longer honest in their own minds,
they feel no moral difficulty in being unjust to others. It is from the
influence of this vice, hypocrisy, that we see so many church and
meeting-going professors and pretenders to religion so full of tricks
and deceit in their dealings, and so loose in the performance of their
engagements that they are not to be trusted further than the laws of the
country will bind them. Morality has no hold on their minds, no
restraint on their actions.

One set of preachers make salvation to consist in believing. They tell
their congregations that if they believe in Christ their sins shall be
forgiven. This, in the first place, is an encouragement to sin; in the
next place, the doctrine these men preach cannot be true.

Another set of preachers tell their congregations that God predestined
and selected from all eternity a certain number to be saved, and a
certain number to be damned eternally. If this were true, the day of
judgment is past; their preaching is in vain, and they had better work
at some useful calling for their livelihood.

Nothing that is here said can apply, even with the most distant
disrespect, to the real character of Jesus Christ. He was a virtuous and
an amiable man. The morality that he preached and practised was of the
most benevolent kind, and, though similar systems of morality had been
preached by Confucius and by some of the Greek philosophers many years
before, by the Quakers since, and by many good men in all ages, it has
not been exceeded by any.


_III.--THE BIBLE_


If we permit ourselves to conceive right ideas of things, we must
necessarily affix the idea, not only of unchangeableness, but of the
utter impossibility of any change taking place, by any means or accident
whatever, in that which we would honour with the name of God; and
therefore the word of God cannot exist in any written or human language.

The continually progressive change to which the meaning of words is
subject, the want of an universal language which renders translation
necessary, the errors to which translations are again subject, the
mistakes of copyists and printers, together with the possibility of
wilful alteration, are of themselves evidences that human language,
whether in speech or in print, cannot be the vehicle of the word of God.
The word of God exists in something else.

It has been the practice of all Christian commentators on the Bible, and
of all Christian priests and preachers, to impose the Bible on the world
as a mass of truth, and as the word of God; they have disputed and
wrangled, and have anathematised each other about the supposable meaning
of particular parts and passages therein; one has said and insisted that
such a passage meant such a thing; another, that it meant directly the
contrary; and a third, that it meant neither the one nor the other, but
something different from both; and this they have called understanding
the Bible.

Now, instead of wasting their time, and heating themselves in fractious
disputations about doctrinal points drawn from the Bible, these men
ought to know, and if they do not it is civility to inform them, that
the first thing to be understood is, whether there is sufficient
authority for believing the Bible to be the word of God, or whether
there is not.

I therefore pass on to an examination of the Books called the Old and
the New Testament. The case historically appears to be as follows:

When the Church mythologists established their system, they collected
all the writings they could find and managed them as they pleased. It is
a matter altogether of uncertainty to us whether such of the writings as
now appear under the name of the Old and the New Testament are in the
same state in which these collectors say they found them; or whether
they added, altered, abridged, or dressed them up.

Be this as it may, they decided by _vote_ which of the books out of the
collection they had made should be the word of God, and which should
not. They rejected several; they voted others to be doubtful, such as
the books called the Apocrypha; and those books which had a majority of
votes they voted to be the word of God. Had they voted otherwise, all
the people since calling themselves Christians, had believed otherwise;
for the belief of the one comes from the vote of the other. Who the
people were that did all this we know nothing of; they call themselves
by the general name of the Church; and this is all we know of the
matter.

There are matters in the Bible, said to be done by the express command
of God, that are as shocking to humanity and to every idea we have of
moral justice as anything done by Robespierre, by Carrier, by Joseph le
Ben, in France; by the English Government in the East Indies; or by any
other assassin in modern times. Are we sure that the Creator of man
commissioned these things to be done? Are we sure that the books that
tell us so were written by His authority? To read the Bible without
horror, we must undo everything that is tender, sympathising, and
benevolent in the heart of man. Speaking for myself, if I had no other
evidence that the Bible is fabulous than the sacrifice I must make to
believe it to be true, that alone would be sufficient to determine my
choice.

But it can be shown by internal evidence that the Bible is not entitled
to credit as the word of God. It can readily be proved that the first
five books of the Bible, attributed to Moses, were not written by him
nor in his time, but several hundred years afterwards. Moses could not
have described his own death, nor mentioned that he was buried in a
valley in the land of Moab. Similarly, the book of Joshua was not
written by Joshua; it is manifest that Joshua could not write that
Israel served the Lord not only in his days, but in the days of the
elders that over-lived him. The book of Judges is anonymous on the face
of it. The books of Samuel were not written by Samuel, for they relate
many things that did not happen till after his death.

The history in the two books of Kings, which is little more than a
history of assassinations, treachery, and war, sometimes contradicts
itself; and several of the most extraordinary matters related in Kings
are not mentioned in the companion books of Chronicles. The book of Job
has no internal evidence of being a Hebrew book; it appears to have been
translated from another language into Hebrew; and it is the only book in
the Bible that can be read without indignation or disgust. It is an
error to call the Psalms the Psalms of David because historical evidence
shows that some of them were not written until long after the time of
David. The books of the prophets are wild, disorderly, and obscure
compositions, the so-called prophecies in which do not refer to Jesus
Christ, but to circumstances the Jewish nation was in at the time they
were written or spoken.

I now go on to the book called the New Testament. Had it been the object
of Jesus Christ to establish a new religion, he would undoubtedly have
written the system himself, or procured it to be written in His
lifetime. But there is no publication extant authenticated with his
name. All the books called the New Testament were written after his
death. He was a Jew by birth and profession, and he was the Son of God
in like manner that every other person is; for the Creator is the Father
of All.

The first four books--Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John--are altogether
anecdotal. They relate events after they had taken place. They tell what
Jesus Christ did and said, and what others did and said to him; and in
several instances they relate the same event differently. Revelation,
therefore, is out of the question with respect to these books. The
presumption, moreover, is that they are written by other persons than
these whose name they bear.

The book of Acts of the Apostles belongs also to the anecdotal part. All
the rest of the New Testament, except the book of enigmas called the
Revelation, are a collection of letters under the name of epistles, and
the forgery of letters under the name of epistles. One thing, however,
is certain, which is that out of the matters contained in these books,
together with the assistance of some old stories, the Church has set up
a system of religion very contradictory to the character of the person
whose name it bears. It has set up a religion of pomp and reverence in
pretended imitation of a person whose life was humility and poverty.


_IV.--MYSTERY, MIRACLE, AND PROPHECY_


I proceed to speak of the three principal means that have been employed
in all ages and perhaps in all countries to impose upon mankind.

These three means are mystery, miracle, and prophecy. The two first are
incompatible with true religion, and the third ought always to be
suspected. With respect to mystery, everything we behold is, in one
sense, a mystery to us. Our own existence is a mystery, the whole
vegetable world is a mystery. We know not how it is that the seed we sow
unfolds and multiplies itself.

The fact, however, as distinct from the operating cause, is not a
mystery, because we see it; and we know also the means we are to use,
which is no other than putting the seed in the ground. We know,
therefore, as much as is necessary for us to know; and that part of the
operation that we do not know, and which if we did we could not perform,
the Creator takes upon Himself and performs it for us.

But though every created thing is in this sense a mystery, the word
mystery cannot be applied to moral truth, any more than obscurity can be
applied to light. The God in whom we believe is a God of moral truth,
and not of mystery. Mystery is the antagonist of truth. It is a fog of
human invention that obscures truth, and represents it in distortion.

Religion, therefore, being the belief of a God, and the practice of
moral truth, cannot have connection with mystery. The belief of a God,
so far from having anything of mystery in it, is of all beliefs the most
easy, becauses it arises to us out of necessity. And the practice of
moral truth, or, in other words, a practical imitation of the goodness
of God, is no other than our acting towards each other as he acts
benignly towards all.

When men, whether from policy or pious fraud, set up systems of religion
incompatible with the word or works of God in the creation, they were
under the necessity of inventing or adopting a word that should serve as
a bar to all inquiries and speculations. The word "mystery" answered
this purpose, and thus it has happened that religion, which in itself is
without mystery, has been corrupted into a fog of mysteries.

As mystery answered all general purposes, "miracle" followed as an
occasional auxiliary. Of all the modes of evidence that ever were
invented to obtain belief to any system or opinion to which the name of
religion has been given, that of miracle is the most inconsistent. For,
in the first place, whenever recourse is had to show, for the purpose of
procuring that belief, it implies a lameness or weakness in the doctrine
that is preached. And, in the second place, it is degrading the Almighty
into the character of a showman, playing tricks to amuse and make the
people stare and wonder. It is also the most equivocal sort of evidence
that can be set up; for the belief is not to depend upon the thing
called a miracle, but upon the credit of the reporter who says that he
saw it; and therefore the thing, were it true, would have no better
chance of being believed than if it were a lie.

As mystery and miracle took charge of the past and the present, prophecy
took charge of the future, and rounded the tenses of faith. The original
meaning of the words "prophet" and "prophesying" has been changed, the
Old Testament prophets were simply poets and musicians. It is owing to
this change in the meaning of the words that the flights and metaphors
of the Jewish poets, and phrases and expressions now rendered obscure by
our not being acquainted with the local circumstances to which they
applied at the time they were used, have been erected into prophecies,
and made to bend explanations at the will and whimsical conceits of
sectaries, expounders, and commentators. Everything unintelligible was
prophetical.


_V.--DEISM_


Fom the time I was capable of conceiving an idea, and acting upon it by
reflection, I either doubted the truth of the Christian system or
thought it to be a strange affair. It seems as if parents of the
Christian profession were ashamed to tell their children anything about
the principles of their religion. They sometimes instruct them in
morals, and talk to them of the goodness of what they call Providence.
But the Christian story of what they call God the Father putting his son
to death, or employing people to do it--for that is the plain language
of the story--cannot be told by a parent to a child; and to tell him it
was done to make mankind happier and better is making the story still
worse; and to tell him that all this is a mystery is only making an
excuse for the incredibility of it.

How different is this from the pure and simple profession of deism! The
true deist has but one Deity, and his religion consists in contemplating
the power, wisdom, and benignity of the Deity in his works, and in
endeavouring to imitate him in everything moral, scientific, and
mechanical.

The religion that approaches the nearest of all others to true deism, in
the moral and benign part thereof, is that professed by the Quakers; but
they have contracted themselves too much by leaving the works of God out
of their system. Though I reverence their philanthropy, I cannot help
smiling at the conceit, that if the taste of the Quaker could have been
consulted at the creation what a silent and drab-coloured creation it
would have been! Not a flower would have blossomed its gaieties, not a
bird been permitted to sing.

Quitting these reflections, I proceed to other matters. Our ideas, not
only of the almightiness of the Creator, but of His wisdom and His
beneficence, become enlarged as we contemplate the extent and structure
of the universe. The solitary idea of a solitary world rolling or at
rest in the immense ocean of space gives place to the cheerful idea of a
society of worlds, so happily contrived as to administer, even by their
motion, instruction to man. We see our own earth filled with abundance,
but we forget to consider how much of that abundance is owing to the
scientific knowledge the vast machinery of the universe has unfolded.

But what are we to think of the Christian system of faith that forms
itself upon the idea of only one world? Alas! what is this to the mighty
ocean of space and the almighty power of the Creator? From whence, then,
could arise the solitary and strange conceit that the Almighty, who had
millions of worlds equally dependent on His protection, should quit the
care of all the rest and come to die in our world, because they say one
man and one woman had eaten an apple?

It has been by rejecting the evidence that the word or works of God in
the creation affords to our senses, and the action of our reason upon
that evidence, that so many wild and whimsical systems of faith, and of
religion, have been fabricated and set up. There may be many systems of
religion that so far from being morally bad are in many respects morally
good; but there can be but one that is true, and that one necessarily
must, as it ever will, be in all things consistent with the
ever-existing word of God that we behold in His works.

I shall close by giving a summary of the deistic belief:

First, that the creation we behold is the real word of God, in which we
cannot be deceived. It proclaims His power, it demonstrates His wisdom,
it manifests His goodness and beneficence.

Secondly, that the moral duty of man consists in imitating the moral
goodness and beneficence of God manifested in the creation towards all
His creatures. That seeing, as we daily do, the goodness of God to all
men, it is an example calling upon all men to practise the same towards
each other, and consequently that everything of persecution and revenge
between man and man, and everything of cruelty to animals, is a
violation of moral duty.

It is certain that, in one point, all nations of the earth and all
religions agree. All believe in a God. The things in which they disagree
are the redundancies annexed to that belief; and, therefore, if ever an
universal religion should prevail, it will not be in believing anything
new, but in getting rid of redundancies, and believing as man believed
at first. But in the meantime let every man follow, as he has a right to
do, the religion and the worship he prefers.

       *       *       *       *       *



BLAISE PASCAL


LETTERS TO A PROVINCIAL


     Blaise Pascal, mathematician, theologian, and one of the
     greatest writers of French prose, was born on June 19, 1623,
     at Clermont-Ferrand, and died on August 19, 1662. His mother
     died in his fourth year, and the father, an eminent lawyer,
     took the boy with his two sisters to Paris. Pascal showed the
     most astonishing mathematical genius; he produced at the age
     of seventeen a profound work on conic sections, and devoted
     the following years to physical researches and to
     investigations in the higher mathematics. In 1654, Pascal,
     having experienced a remarkable vision, which he recorded on a
     parchment known as his "amulet," renounced the world and
     entered on the ascetic life, in close relations with the
     Jansenist community. Hence, in the interests of Arnauld, the
     Jansenist leader, Pascal issued the famous "Letters Written to
     a Provincial" ("Lettres Ecrites par Louis de Montalte a un
     Provincial de ses Amis"), a series of eighteen tracts directed
     with the keenest and bitterest irony against the casuistry of
     the Jesuits. The "Letters" appeared during a period of
     fourteen months, the first being dated January 23, 1656, and
     the last March 24, 1657. They took the form of little
     pamphlets, each of eight or twelve quarto pages; they had a
     very large circulation, and created an immense impression
     throughout Catholic countries. They are open letters, intended
     really for the public and not for any individual.


_I.--LAX CASUISTS_


SIR,--I send you, as I promised, the chief outlines of the moral
teaching of these good Jesuit fathers, these "men so eminent in doctrine
and in wisdom, who are led by that divine wisdom which is more
trustworthy than all philosophy." Possibly you think that I speak in
jest. I speak seriously, or, rather, it is they who have spoken thus of
themselves. I only copy their words where they write, "It is a society
of men, or, rather, of angels, foretold by the prophet Isaiah." They
claim to have changed the face of Christianity. We must believe it,
since they have told us so; and, indeed, you will see how far they have
done so, when you have mastered their maxims.

I took care to be instructed by themselves and trusted to nothing which
my friend had told me. I had been told such strange things that I could
hardly believe them, until I was shown them in their own books; and then
I could say nothing in their defence, except that these must be the
principles of certain isolated Jesuits, and not those of the whole
society. Indeed, I was able to say that I knew Jesuits who were as
severe as these were lax.

It was on that occasion that the spirit of the society was explained to
me, for it is not by any means known to every one. I was told as
follows:

"You imagine that you are speaking in their favour when you say that
there are among them fathers who are as obedient to the principles of
the Gospel as others are distant from those principles, and you conclude
therefore that these loose opinions do not characterise the whole
society. That is true. But since the society admits of so licentious a
doctrine within it, you must conclude that its spirit is not one of
Christian severity."

"But what then," said I, "is the purpose of the whole institution? Is it
that everyone should be free to say whatever he may happen to think?"

"That is not so," was the reply. "So great a society could not exist
without discipline, and without one spirit governing and ruling all its
movements."

The objects of the Jesuits is not to corrupt morals, but, on the other
hand, they have not in view as their single object the reformation of
morals, because they would find this a political disadvantage. Their
principle is this: they have so high an opinion of themselves as to
believe that it is advantageous, and even necessary, to the good of
religion that their credit should extend everywhere and that they should
govern all consciences. And as the severe maxims of the Gospel are
suitable for governing certain temperaments, they make use of these
whenever they serve their purpose. But since these same maxims do not at
all suit the wishes of the generality of mankind, they usually put them
aside so as to be able to please everyone.

Therefore, having to do with people of all sorts and conditions, and of
diverse nationalities, they need casuists suited to all this diversity.
From this principle you will easily see that if they had none but lax
casuists they would defeat their chief purpose, which is to include the
whole world. Truly pious people seek a more severe direction, but as
there are not many who are truly pious the Jesuits do not need many
strict directors to guide them. They have a few for the few who need
them. On the other hand, the vast number of their lax casuists are at
the service of the innumerable multitude who seek the broad and easy
way.

It is by this obliging and accommodating conduct that they open their
arms to all the world. Thus, if someone comes to them already determined
to make restitution of goods which he has wrongly acquired, you need not
fear that they will dissuade him. On the contrary, they will praise and
confirm his holy resolution. But if another should come wishing to have
absolution without making restitution, their position would be a
difficult one, if they had not the means of giving him his desire. It is
thus that they keep all their friends and defend themselves against
their enemies. And if anyone accuses them of extreme laxity, they
immediately bring forward their most austere directors, and certain
books which they have written on the severity of the Christian law; and
simple and uninquiring people are contented with these proofs.

They have proofs for all sorts of people, and make such ingenious
replies to every question that when they find themselves in countries
where a crucified God seems like madness, they suppress the scandal of
the Cross and preach only Christ in glory. This they have done in India
and China, where they even condone idolatry by a subtle device; they
allow their people to carry with them hidden images of Christ, to which
they should address the public worship ostensibly paid to their idols.
This conduct led to their being forbidden under pain of excommunication
to permit the adoration of idols, under any pretext, or to hide the
mystery of the Cross from those whom they instruct in religion, and they
have been forbidden to receive anyone in baptism until he has this
knowledge, and are enjoined to erect in their churches the image of the
crucifix.

Thus they have spread over the whole earth in the strength of their
doctrine of "probable opinions," which is the fount and origin of all
these irregularities. You may learn of this from themselves, for they
take no pains to hide it, except that they cover their human and
political prudence with the pretence of a divine and Christian prudence.
They act as if the faith and the tradition which maintains it were not
for ever invariable at all times and in all places, and as if nothing
more were required, in order to remove the stains of guilt, than to
corrupt the law of the Lord, instead of regarding that stainless and
holy law as itself the instrument of conversion, and conforming human
souls to its salutary precepts.


_II.--THE DOCTRINE OF INTENTION_


Sir,--I must now let you know what the good Jesuit father told me about
the maxims of their casuists, with regard to the "point of honour" among
gentlemen. "You know," said he, "that this point of honour is the
dominating passion of men in that rank of life, and is constantly
leading them into acts of violence which appear quite contrary to
Christian piety. Indeed, we should have to exclude all of them from our
confessionals, if our fathers had not in some degree relaxed the
severity of religion and accommodated it to the weakness of men. But
since they wished to remain attached to the Gospel by their duty towards
God, and to men of the world by their charity towards their neighbour,
they had to seek expedients by which they might make it possible for a
man to maintain his honour in the ordinary way of the world without
wounding his conscience. They had to preserve, at the same time, two
things which are apparently so opposed to one another as piety and
honour. But, however valuable their purpose might be, its execution was
exceedingly difficult."

"I am surprised," I said, "that you find it difficult."

"Are you?" he replied. "Do you not know that on the one hand the law of
the Gospel commands us never to render evil for evil, and to leave
vengeance to God; and that on the other hand the laws of the world
forbid that we should suffer injury without executing justice, even by
the death of our enemies? Is it possible that two precepts should be
more contrary to one another?"

"What I meant to say was, that after what I have seen of your fathers, I
know that they can easily do things which are impossible to other men. I
am quite ready to believe that they have discovered some means of
reconciling these two precepts, and I beg of you to inform me what it
is."

"You must know, then," he replied, "that this wonderful principle is our
grand method of _directing the intention,_ a principle of great
importance in our moral system. You have already seen certain examples
of it. Thus, when I explained to you how servants could carry with a
clear conscience certain harmful messages, you must have seen that it
was by diverting their intention from the evil of which they are the
bearers and by turning it to the gain which they receive for their
service. This is what we call 'directing the intention.' In the same way
you have seen that those who give money in return for benefices would be
guilty of simony unless they diverted their intention from the
transaction. But I am going to show you this grand method in all its
beauty in relation to homicide, which it justifies under a thousand
circumstances."

"I am ready to believe," I said, "that your principle will permit
everything, and that nothing will escape it."

"Not at all," he replied; "you are always running from one extreme to
the other. We by no means permit everything. For instance, we never
permit the formal intention of sin, for the mere sake of sinning, and we
will have nothing to do with anyone who persists in seeking evil as an
end in itself, for that is a devilish intention, in whatever age, sex,
or rank it may be found. But so long as there is no such unhappy
disposition as that, we try to put in practice our method of directing
intention, which consists in proposing a lawful object as the end of
one's actions. In so far as it is in our power, we turn away from
forbidden things; but when we are unable to prevent the action, we at
least try to purify the intention, and so correct the vice of the means
by the purity of the end.

"That is how our fathers have been able to permit the acts of violence
which are committed in the defence of honour. It is only necessary to
turn away one's intention from the desire of vengeance, which is
criminal, and to restrict it to the desire of defending one's honour,
which is a lawful desire. It is thus that our fathers are able to fulfil
their duties towards God and towards men alike. They please the world by
permitting the actions, and they satisfy the Gospel by purifying the
intentions. It is a method which was unknown to the ancients, and is
entirely due to our fathers. Do you understand it now?"

"I understand it very well," I said. "You allow to men the external and
material effect of the action, and you give to God the internal and
spiritual movement of intention, and thus reconcile the human with the
divine law. But though I understand your principle well enough, I should
like to know what are its consequences.--I should like to know, for
instance, all the cases in which your method permits one to kill. You
have told me that whoever receives a blow may repay it with a
sword-thrust without the guilt of vengeance, but you have not yet told
me how far one may go."

"You can hardly make a mistake," said the father. "You may go as far as
to kill the man. One of our authorities speaks: 'It is permitted to kill
a man who has given a blow, even though he runs away, on the condition
that it is not done through hatred or through vengeance, and that one's
actions do not lead to murders which are excessive and harmful to the
state.' The reason is, that one may thus run after one's honour as if
after a stolen object. For though your honour is not exactly in the
hands of your enemy as if it were something which he had picked up, you
can yet recover it in the same way by giving a proof of greatness and of
authority, and by thus acquiring human esteem. Indeed, he continues: 'Is
it not true that he who has received a blow is considered disgraced
until he has slain his enemy?'"

This appeared to me so horrible that I had difficulty in restraining
myself. I felt that I had heard enough.


_III.--THE CHARGE OF RAILLERY_


Reverend Fathers,--I have read the letters which you have published in
answer to some of mine on the subject of your moral principles; and I
find that one of the principal points in your defence is that I have not
spoken seriously enough of your maxims. You repeat this charge in all
your writings, and you go so far as to say that I have turned holy
things into ridicule.

This is a surprising and very unjust reproach; for where is a passage to
be found in which I have treated holy things with raillery? It is true
that I have spoken with little respect of the teachings of certain among
you, but do you suppose that the imaginations of your authors are to be
taken as the verities of the faith? Is it impossible to laugh at
passages of Escobar, and at the very fantastic and unchristian
conclusions of others of your authors without being accused of
ridiculing religion? Are you not afraid lest your reproaches should give
me a new subject for ridicule, or lest it should be seen that when I
make sport of your moral principles I am as far from laughing at holy
things as the doctrine of your casuists is far from the holy teaching of
the Evangel!

Truly, fathers, there is a great difference between laughing at
religion, and laughing at those whose extravagant opinions are its
profanation. It would be impious to be wanting in respect for the truths
which the Spirit of God has revealed, but it would hardly be less
impious that we should not show our contempt for the falsities which the
human spirit has opposed to them.

I pray you to consider that just as Christian truth is worthy of love
and of respect, the errors that are contrary to it deserve our contempt
and hatred. For there are two qualities in the truths of our religion, a
divine beauty which compels our love, and a holy majesty that demands
our veneration; and there are two qualities in error, the impiety which
makes it horrible, and the impertinence which renders it absurd.

Do not hope, therefore, to persuade the world that it is unworthy of
Christians to deal with errors as absurdities, since this method has
been common to the early fathers of the church, and is authorised by
Holy Scriptures, by the example of the greatest saints, and even by that
of God himself. For do we not see that God at the same time hates and
despises sinners in such a degree that at the hour of their death, when
their condition is at its saddest and most deplorable, the divine wisdom
is said to unite mockery and laughter with the vengeance and fury which
condemns them to perpetual torments.

Nay, it is worthy of our notice that in the first words which God spake
to man after the fall the fathers of the church have discovered a tone
of mockery, a stinging irony. After Adam had disobeyed, in the hope that
the devil had given that he would then be made like a God, it appears
from Scripture that God's punishment made him subject to death, and that
after having reduced Adam to the miserable condition which his sin had
deserved, God mocked him with words of piercing irony, saying: "There is
the man who has become as one of us."

You see, therefore, that mockery is sometimes designed to turn men from
their follies, and is then an act of righteousness. Thus Jeremiah says
that the deeds of the foolish are worthy of laughter because of their
vanity. And, again, St. Augustine says that the wise laugh at the
foolish because they are wise, but in virtue not of their own wisdom,
but of the divine wisdom which will mock at the death of the wicked.

What? Must we call in Scripture and tradition to prove that cutting down
one's enemy from behind, and in an ambush is a treacherous murder? Or
that giving a present of money to secure an ecclesiastical benefice is
to purchase it? Of course, there are teachings which deserve our
contempt, and can only be dealt with by mockery. Are you, fathers, to be
permitted to teach that it is lawful to slay in order to avoid a blow
and an affront, yet are we to be forbidden to refute publicly so grave
an error? Are you to be at liberty to say that a judge may
conscientiously retain a bribe given him to purchase injustice, yet may
we never contradict you? Are you formally to pronounce that a man may be
saved without ever having loved God, and yet close the mouths of those
who would defend the truth of the faith, on the ground that their
defence must wound fraternal charity by attacking you, and must grieve
Christian modesty by laughing at your maxims?


_IV.--THE SIN OF SIMONY_


Reverend Fathers,--I was about to write to you concerning the
accusations which you have so long brought against me, wherein you call
me impious, buffoon, rogue, impostor, calumniator, swindler, heretic,
disguised Calvinist, one possessed of a legion of devils. I wish the
world to know why you speak thus, for I should be sorry that anyone
should think thus of me; and I had already made up my mind to complain
publicly of your calumnies and impostures when I saw your replies,
wherein you bring the same charges against me. You have thus forced me
to change my purpose. Yet I shall still carry it out in some degree,
inasmuch as I hope that my defence will convict you of more real
impostures which you have imputed to me. Truly, fathers, your position
is more open to suspicion than mine, for it is very unlikely that I,
being alone as I am, and without strength or human support against so
powerful a society as yours, and being sustained only by truth and
sincerity, should have exposed myself to the risk of losing all, by
exposing myself to a conviction of imposture. But your position,
fathers, is different; you can say of me what you please, and I can find
no one to whom I may complain. Well, you have chosen your ground, and
the war shall be made in your country and at your expense. Do not fear
that I shall be tedious; there is something so diverting about your
maxims that they never fail to rejoice the world.

Let me closely explain, for instance, your doctrine with regard to
simony. Finding yourself in a dilemma between the canons of the church,
which forbid with the severest penalties any trade in ecclesiastical
benefices, and the avarice of so many people who promote this infamous
traffic, you have followed your ordinary method, which is to give to men
what they desire, and to offer to God nothing but words and appearances.
For what do simonfacal persons demand, if not that they shall receive
money in return for their benefices?

But that is precisely the transaction which you have cleared from the
guilt of simony. Yet, since you cannot do away with the name of simony,
and there must be some matter to which the name attaches, you have
devised for that purpose an imaginary idea, which never enters the minds
of simoniacs at all, and indeed would be quite useless to them. This is,
that simony consists in valuing the money, considered in itself, as
highly as the spiritual privilege, considered in itself. Who would ever
dream of comparing things which are so disproportionate and of such
different kinds? Yet, according to your authors, so long as a man does
not entertain this metaphysical comparison, he may give his benefice to
another, and may receive money in return, without incurring the guilt of
simony. It is thus that you make game of religion in order to pander to
human passions.

The abusive language which you utter against me will never clear up our
differences, nor shall any of your threats restrain me from defending
myself. You trust in your strength and impunity, but I believe that I
possess truth and innocence. The war by which violence attempts to
oppress the truth is a strange and a long one, for all the efforts of
violence are unable to weaken truth, and serve only to make it more
evident. On the other hand, all the light of truth can do nothing to
arrest violence, but rather inflames it. When force combats force, the
stronger destroys the weaker; when argument is opposed to argument, true
and convincing reasoning confounds that which is based on vanity and
lies; but violence and truth have, no power one over the other. That is
not to say that these two things are equal. There is this extreme
difference between them: the career of violence is limited by the divine
order, which determines its effects to the glory of the truth which it
attacks; but truth, on the other hand, exists externally, and triumphs
at last over its enemies, because it is eternal and powerful as God
Himself.


_V.--HOMICIDE_


Let us now see, fathers, how you value that life of man, which is so
jealously safeguarded by human justice. It appears from your novel laws
that there is only one judge in a case of affront or injury, and that
this judge is to be he who has received the offence. He is to be at the
same time judge, plaintiff, and executioner. He demands the death of the
offender, sentences him to death, and immediately executes the sentence;
and so, without respect either for the body or for the soul of his
brother, slays and imperils the salvation of him for whom Christ died.
And all this is to be done to avoid a blow, a slander, an insulting
word, or some other offence for which neither the law nor any authorised
judge could assign the penalty of death.

Not only so, but even a priest is held to have contracted neither sin
nor irregularity in this infliction of death without authority and
against law. Can these be religious men and priests who speak in this
way? Are they Christians or Turks--men or demons? Spread over the whole
earth, according to St. Augustine, there are two peoples and two
worlds--the world of the children of God, who form one body, of which
Jesus Christ is king, and the world of the enemies of God, of whom the
devil is king.

Now, Christ has founded honour on suffering; the devil has founded it on
the refusal to suffer. Christ has taught those who receive a blow to
offer the other cheek; but the devil has taught those who are in danger
of a blow to kill the enemy who threatens them.

Consider, therefore, fathers, to which of these two kingdoms you belong.
You have heard the language of the city of peace, which is called the
mystical Jerusalem, and you have heard the language of the city of
turmoil, which is called in the Scriptures the spiritual Sodom. Which of
these two languages do you understand? According to St. Paul, those who
belong to Christ act and speak on his principles; and, according to the
words of Christ, those who are the children of the devil, who has been a
murderer from the beginning of the world, follow his maxims. We listen,
therefore, to the language of your teachers, and ask of them whether
when a blow is threatened, we ought to suffer it rather than slay the
offender, or whether we may kill him in order to escape the affront?

Lessius, Molina, Escobar, and other Jesuits say that it is lawful to
kill the man who threatens a blow. Is that the language of Jesus Christ?

       *       *       *       *       *



WILLIAM PENN


SOME FRUITS OF SOLITUDE


     William Penn was born in London on October 14, 1644. In early
     life he joined the Quakers, and while still a young man
     underwent imprisonment for the expression of his religious
     views. For "A Sandy Foundation Shaken," an attack on the
     Athanasian Creed, he was in 1668 sent to the Tower, where he
     wrote, "No Cross, No Crown." Under James II., however, he was
     high in the favour of the court, and received a grant of the
     region afterwards known as Pennsylvania, whither he went with
     a number of his co-religionists in 1682. After his return to
     England, he suffered by the fall of James II., but under
     William III. was acquitted of treason, and spent his later
     years in retirement. He died at Ruscombe, in Berkshire, on
     July 30, 1718. "Some Fruits of Solitude, or the Maxims of
     William Penn," evidently the result of one of his sojourns in
     prison, was licensed in 1693. It was followed by "More Fruits
     of Solitude." The whole forms a collection of maxims which are
     shrewd, wise, and charitable, informed with a good courage for
     life, and a contempt for mean ends, if in their variety they
     do not always escape the touch of the commonplace. The book
     has become known as a favourite of R.L. Stevenson, who said of
     it that "there is not the man living--no, nor recently
     dead--that could put, with so lovely a spirit, so much honest,
     kind wisdom into words."


_TO THE READER_


Reader, this Enchiridion I present thee which is the fruit of solitude;
a school few care to learn in, though none instructs us better. Some
parts of it are the result of serious reflection; others the flashings
of lucid intervals. Writ for private satisfaction, and now published for
an help to human conduct.

The author blesseth God for his retirement, and kisses that Gentle Hand
which led him into it; for though it should prove barren to the world,
it can never do so to him.

He has now had some time he could call his own; a property he was never
so much master of before; in which he has taken a view of himself and
the world; and observed wherein he hath hit and mist the mark; what
might have been done, what mended, and what avoided in his human
conduct; together with the omissions and excesses of others, as well
societies and governments, as private families and persons. And he
verily thinks, were he to live over his life again, he could not only,
with God's grace, serve Him, but his neighbour and himself, better than
he hath done, and have seven years of his time to spare. And yet perhaps
he hath not been the worst or the idlest man in the world, nor is he the
oldest. And this is the rather said, that it might quicken thee, reader,
to lose none of the time that is yet thine.

There is nothing of which we are apt to be so lavish as of time, and
about which we ought to be more solicitous; since without it we can do
nothing in this world. Time is what we want most, but what, alas! we use
worst; and for which God will certainly most strictly reckon with us,
when time shall be no more.

The author does not pretend to deliver thee an exact piece; his business
not being ostentation, but charity. 'Tis miscellaneous in the matter of
it, and by no means artificial in the composure. But it contains hints
that may serve thee for texts to preach to thyself upon, and which
comprehend much of the course of human life. Since whatever be thy
inclination or aversion, practice or duty, thou wilt find something not
unsuitably said for thy direction and advantage. Accept and improve what
deserves thy notice; the rest excuse, and place to account of good will
to thee and the whole creation of God.


_IGNORANCE_


It is admirable to consider how many millions of people come into and go
out of the world ignorant of themselves and of the world they have lived
in. If one went to see Windsor Castle or Hampton Court it would be
strange not to observe and remember the situation, the building, the
gardens, fountains, etc., that make up the beauty and pleasure of such a
seat. And yet few people know themselves; no, not their own bodies, the
houses of their minds, the most curious structure of the world, a living
walking tabernacle: nor the world of which it was made, and out of which
it is fed; which would be so much our benefit as well as our pleasure to
know. We cannot doubt of this when we are told the Invisible things of
God are brought to light by the things that are seen; and consequently
we read our duty in them as often as we look upon them, to Him that is
the Great and Wise Author of them, if we look as we should do.

The world is certainly a great and stately volume of natural things; and
may not be improperly styled the hieroglyphics of a better. But, alas!
how very few leaves of it do we really turn over! This ought to be the
subject of the education of our youth, who at twenty, when they should
be fit for business, know little or nothing of it.


_EDUCATION_


We are in pain to make them scholars, but not men; to talk rather than
to know, which is true canting. The first thing obvious to children is
what is sensible; and that we make no part of their rudiments.

We press their memory too soon, and puzzle, strain, and load them with
words and rules; to know grammar and rhetoric, and a strange tongue or
two, that it is ten to one may never be useful to them; leaving their
natural genius to mechanical and physical, or natural knowledge
uncultivated and neglected; which would be of exceeding use and pleasure
to them through the whole course of their life.

To be sure, languages are not to be despised or neglected; but things
are still to be preferred.

Children had rather be making of tools and instruments of play; shaping,
drawing, framing, and building, etc., than getting some rules of
propriety of speech by heart; and those also would follow with more
judgment and less trouble and time.

It were happy if we studied nature more in natural things, and acted
according to nature; whose rules are few, plain, and most reasonable.

Let us begin where she begins, go her pace, and close always where she
ends, and we cannot miss of being good naturalists.

The creation would not be longer a riddle to us: the heavens, earth, and
waters, with their respective, various, and numerous inhabitants: their
productions, natures, seasons, sympathies, and antipathies; their use,
benefit, and pleasure would be better understood by us: and an eternal
wisdom, power, majesty, and goodness very conspicuous to us through
those sensible and passing forms: the world wearing the mark of its
Maker, whose stamp is everywhere visible, and the characters very
legible to the children of wisdom.

And it would go a great way to caution and direct people in their use of
the world that they were better studied and known in the creation of it.

For how could man find the confidence to abuse it, while they should
find the Great Creator stare them in the face, in all and every part
thereof?

Their ignorance makes them insensible and that insensibility hardy in
misusing this noble creation, that has the stamp and voice of a Deity
everywhere, and in everything to the observing.

It is pity, therefore, that books have not been composed for youth, by
some curious and careful naturalists, and also mechanics, in the Latin
tongue, to be used in schools, that they might learn things with words:
things obvious and familiar to them, and which would make the tongue
easier to be obtained by them.

Many able gardeners and husbandmen are yet ignorant of the reason of
their calling; as most artificers are of the reason of their own rules
that govern their excellent workmanship. But a naturalist and mechanick
of this sort is master of the reason of both, and might be of the
practice, too, if his industry kept pace with his speculation; which
were very commendable, and without which he cannot be said to be a
complete naturalist or mechanic.

Finally, if man be the index or epitome of the world, as philosophers
tell us, we have only to read ourselves well to be learned in it. But
because there is nothing we less regard than the characters of the Power
that made us, which are so clearly written upon us and the world He has
given us, and can best tell us what we are and should be, we are even
strangers to our own genius; the glass in which we should see that true
instructing and agreeable variety, which is to be observed in nature, to
the admiration of that wisdom and adoration of that Power which made us
all.


_FRUGALITY OR BOUNTY_


Frugality is good, if liberality be joined with it. The first is leaving
off superfluous expenses; the last bestowing them to the benefit of
others that need. The first without the last begins covetousness; the
last without the first begins prodigality. Both together make an
excellent temper. Happy the place wherever that is found.

Were it universal, we should be cured of two extremes, want and excess:
and the one would supply the other, and so bring both nearer to a mean;
the just degree of earthly happiness.

It is a reproach to religion and government to suffer so much poverty
and excess.

Were the superfluities of a nation valued, and made a perpetual tax on
benevolence, there were be more alms-houses than poor, schools than
scholars; and enough to spare for government besides.


_INDUSTRY_


Love labour; for if thou dost not want it for food thou mayest for
physick. It is wholesome for thy body, and good for thy mind. It
prevents the fruits of idleness, which many times come of having nothing
to do, and lead too many to do what is worse than nothing.

A garden, an elaboratory, a work-house, improvements and breeding, are
pleasant and profitable diversions to the idle and ingenious; for here
they miss ill company, and converse with nature and art; whose variety
are equally grateful and instructing; and preserve a good constitution
of body and mind.


_KNOWLEDGE_


Knowledge is the treature, but judgment the treasurer of a wise man.

He that has more knowledge than judgment is made for another man's use
more than his own.

It cannot be a good constitution, where the appetite is great and the
digestion is weak.

There are some men like dictionaries; to be looked into upon occasions,
but have no connection, and are little entertaining.

Less knowledge than judgment will always have the advantage over the
injudicious knowing man.

A wise man makes what he learns his own, t'other shows he's but a copy,
or a collection at most.


_ON THE GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHTS_


Man being made a reasonable, and so a thinking creature, there is
nothing more worthy of his being than the right direction and employment
of his thoughts; since upon this depends both his usefulness to the
publick and his own present and future benefit in all respects.

The consideration of this has often obliged me to lament the unhappiness
of mankind, that through too great a mixture and confusion of thoughts
have been hardly able to make a right or mature judgment of things.

Clear, therefore, thy head, and rally, and manage thy thoughts rightly,
and thou wilt save time, and see and do thy business well; for thy
judgment will be distinct, thy mind free, and the faculties strong and
regular.

Always remember to bound thy thoughts to the present occasion.

Make not more business necessary than is so; and rather lessen than
augment work for thyself.

Upon the whole matter employ thy thoughts as thy business requires, and
let that have place according to merit and urgency, giving everything a
review and due digestion, and thou wilt prevent many errors and
vexations, as well as save much time to thyself in the course of thy
life.


_FRIENDSHIP_


Friendship is an union of spirits, a marriage of hearts, and the bond
thereof virtue.

There can be no friendship where there is no freedom. Friendship loves a
free air, and will not be penned up in strait and narrow enclosures. It
will speak freely, and act so too; and take nothing ill where no ill is
meant; nay, where it is 'twill easily forgive, and forget, too, upon
small acknowledgements.

Friends are true twins in soul; they sympathise in everything, and have
the same love and aversion.

One is not happy without the other, nor can either be miserable alone.
As if they could change bodies, they take their turns in pain as well as
in pleasure; relieving one another in their most adverse conditions.

What one enjoys the other cannot want. Like the primitive Christians,
they have all things in common, and no property but in one another.

They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it.

Death cannot kill what never dies.

Nor can spirits ever be divided that love and live in the same divine
principle, the root and record of their friendship.

If absence be not death, neither is theirs.

Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in
one another still.

For they must needs be present that love and live in that which is
omnipresent. In this divine glass they see face to face; and their
converse is free, as well as pure.

This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die yet
their friendship and society are in the best sense ever present, because
immortal.


_OF CHARITY_


Charity has various senses, but is excellent in all of them.

It imports, first, the commiseration of the poor and unhappy of mankind,
and extends an helping hand to mend their condition.

Next, charity makes the best construction of things and persons; it
makes the best of everything, forgives everybody, serves all, and hopes
to the end.

It is an universal remedy against discord, an holy cement for mankind.

And, lastly, 'tis love to God and the brethren which raises the soul
above all earthly considerations; and as it gives a taste of heaven upon
earth, so 'tis heaven in the fulness of it hereafter to the truly
charitable here.

This is the noblest sense charity has, after which all should press as
being the more excellent way.

Would God this divine virtue were more implanted and diffused among
mankind, the pretenders to Christianity especially; and then we should
certainly mind piety more than controversy, and exercise love and
compassion instead of censuring and persecuting one another in any
manner whatsoever.

       *       *       *       *       *




ERNEST RENAN


LIFE OF JESUS


     Ernest Renan, the most widely read writer of religious history
     in his day, was forty years old when the "Vie de Jesus," his
     most popular book, appeared as the first volume of a "History
     of the Origins of Christianity." He was born at Treguier in
     Brittany, France, Feb. 27, 1823, a Breton through his father
     and a Gascon through his mother. Educated for the Church,
     under priestly tutelage, he specialised in the study of
     Oriental languages, with the result that he found it
     impossible to accept the traditional view of Christian and
     Jewish history. After holding an appointment in the Department
     of Manuscripts in the Bibliotheque Nationale, he became
     Professor of Hebrew in the College de France. At the age of 55
     he was elected a member of the French Academy. His works
     include "A History of Semitic Languages," a "History of the
     Origins of Christianity," and a "History of the People of
     Israel," besides many volumes of essays and criticism, and
     several autobiographical books of great charm. Everybody read
     Renan, and disagreed with him. The orthodox rejected his
     opinions, and the unorthodox his sentiment. But his books
     marked an epoch in religious criticism. "The Life of Jesus"
     was the outcome of a visit to Palestine in pursuance of
     research studies of Phoenician civilisation. A feature is the
     importance given to scenic surroundings which he could so
     happily describe. Renan died on October 2, 1892, widely
     admired, honoured, and also condemned, and was buried in the
     Pantheon.


_THE HOUR AND THE MAN_


The principal event in the history of the world is the revolution by
which the noblest portions of humanity have forsaken the ancient
religions of Paganism for a religion founded on the Divine Unity, the
Trinity, and the Incarnation of the Son of God. Nearly a thousand years
were required to achieve this conversion. The new religion itself took
at least three hundred years in its formation. But the origin of the
revolution is a historical event which happened in the reigns of
Augustus and Tiberius. At that time there lived a man of supreme
personality, who, by his bold originality, and by the love which he was
able to inspire, became the object, and settled the direction, of the
future faith of mankind.

The great empires which succeeded each other in Western Asia annihilated
all the hopes of the Jewish race for a terrestial kingdom, and cast it
back on religious dreams, which it cherished with a kind of sombre
passion. The establishment of the Roman empire exalted men's
imaginations, and the great era of peace on which the world was entering
gave birth to illimitable hopes. This confused medley of dreams found at
length an interpretation in the peerless man to whom the universal
conscience has decreed the title of the Son of God, and that with
justice, since he gave religion an impetus greater than that which any
other man has been capable of giving--an impetus with which, in all
probability, no further advance will be comparable.


_YOUTH AND EDUCATION_


Jesus was born at Nazareth, a small town in Galilee, which before his
time was not known to fame. The precise date of his birth is unknown. It
took place in the reign of Augustus, probably some years before the year
one of the era which all civilised peoples date from the day of his
birth. Jesus came from the ranks of the common folk. His father, Joseph,
and his mother, Mary, were people in humble circumstances, artisans
living by their handiwork in the state, so usual in the East, which is
neither ease nor poverty. The family was somewhat large. Jesus had
brothers and sisters who seem to have been younger than he. They all
remained obscure. The four men who were called his brothers, and among
whom one at least, James, became of great importance in the early years
of the development of Christianity, were his cousins-german. The sisters
of Jesus were married at Nazareth, and there he spent the early years of
his youth.

The town must have presented the poverty-stricken aspect still
characteristic of villages in the East. We see to-day the streets where
Jesus played as a child in the stony paths or little lanes which
separate the dwellings from each other. No doubt the house of Joseph
much resembled these poor domiciles, lighted only by the doorway,
serving at once as workshop, kitchen, and bedroom, and having for
furniture a mat, some cushions on the ground, one or two clay pots, and
a painted chest. But the surroundings are charming, and no place in the
world could be so well adapted for dreams of perfect happiness. If we
ascend to the plateau, swept by a perpetual breeze, above the highest
houses, the landscape is magnificent. An enchanted circle, cradle of the
Kingdom of God, was for years the horizon of Jesus, and indeed during
his whole life he went but little beyond these, the familiar bounds of
his childhood.

No doubt he learnt to read and write according to the Eastern method;
but it is doubtful if he understood the Hebrew writings in their
original tongue. His biographers make him cite translations in the
Aramean language. Nevertheless, it would be a great error to imagine
that Jesus was what we should call an ignorant man. Refinement of
manners and acuteness of intellect have, in the East, nothing in common
with what we call education. In all probability Jesus did not know
Greek. His mother tongue was the Syrian dialect, mingled with Hebrew. No
element of secular teaching reached him. He was ignorant of all beyond
Judaism; his mind kept that free innocence which an extended and varied
culture always weakens. Happily, he was also ignorant of the grotesque
scholasticism which was taught at Jerusalem, and which was soon to
constitute the Talmud. The reading of the books of the Old Testament
made a deep impression on him, especially the book of Daniel, and the
religious poetry of the Psalms was in marvellous accordance with his
lyrical soul, and all his life was his sustenance and support. That he
had no knowledge of the general state of the world is evident from every
feature of his most authentic discourses, and he never conceived of
aristocratic society, save as a young villager who sees the world
through the prism of his simplicity. Although born at a time when the
principles of positive science had already been proclaimed, he lived in
entirely supernatural ideas. To him the marvellous was not the
exceptional but the normal statf of things, since to him the whole
course of things was the result of the free-will of the Deity. This led
to a profound conception of the close relations of man with God.


_IDYLLIC SURROUNDINGS_


A mighty dream haunted the Jewish people for centuries, constantly
renewing its youth. Judaea believed that she possessed divine promises
of a boundless future. In combination with the belief in the Messiah and
the doctrine of an approaching renewal of all things, the dogma of the
resurrection had emerged and produced a great fermentation from one end
of the Jewish world to the other. Jesus, as soon as he had any thought
of his own, entered into the burning atmosphere created in Palestine by
these ideas, and his soul was soon filled with them. A beautiful natural
environment imprinted a charming and idyllic character on all the dreams
of Galilee. During the months of March and April that green, shady,
smiling land is a carpet of flowers of an incomparable variety of
colours. The animals are small and extremely gentle--delicate and
playful turtle-doves, blackbirds so light that they rest on a blade of
grass without bending it, tufted larks which almost venture under the
feet of the traveller, little river-tortoises with mild bright eyes,
storks of gravely modest mien, which, casting aside all timidity, allow
men to come quite near them, and indeed seem to invite his approach. In
no country in the world do the mountains extend with more harmonious
outlines, or inspire higher thought. Jesus seems to have had an especial
love for them. The most important events of his divine career took place
upon the mountains. This beautiful country in his time was filled with
prosperity and gaiety. There Jesus lived and grew up. True, every year
he knew the sweet solemnity of the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and it is
believed that early in life the wilderness had some influence on his
development, but it was when he returned into his beloved Galilee that
he once more found his Heavenly Father in the midst of green hills and
clear fountains, and women and children who with joyous soul awaited the
salvation of Israel.


_A CHARACTER TO LOVE_


Jesus followed the trade of his father, which was that of a carpenter.
In this there was nothing irksome or humiliating. The Jewish custom
required that a man devoted to intellectual work should learn a
handicraft. Jesus never married. His whole capacity for love was
concentrated upon that which he felt was his heavenly vocation. He was
no doubt more beloved than loving. Thus, as often happens in very lofty
natures, tenderness of heart was in him transformed into an infinite
sweetness, a vague poetry, a universal charm.

Through what stages did the ideas of Jesus progress during this obscure
early period of his life? A high conception of the Divinity, the
creation of his own great mind, was the guiding principle to which his
power was due. God did not speak to him as to one outside of himself;
God was in him; he felt himself with God, and from his own heart drew
all he said of his Father. The highest consciousness of God which ever
existed in the heart of man was that of Jesus; but he never once gave
utterance to the sacrilegious idea that he was God. From the first he
looked upon his relationship with God as that of a son with his father.
Herein was his great originality; in this he had nothing in common with
his race. Neither Jew nor Musselman has understood this sweet theology
of love. The God of Jesus is our Father. He is the God of humanity. The
Jesus who founded the true Kingdom of God, the kingdom of the humble and
meek, was the Jesus of early life--of those chaste and simple days when
the voice of his Father re-echoed within him in clearer tones. It was
then, for some months, perhaps a year, that God truly dwelt on earth.


_A STIMULATING ACQUAINTANCE_


An extraordinary man, whose position remains to some extent enigmatical,
appeared about this time and unquestionably had some intercourse with
Jesus. About the year 28 of our era there spread through the whole of
Palestine the reputation of a certain John, a young ascetic, full of
fervour and passion. The fundamental practice which characterised his
sect was baptism; but baptism with John was only a sign to impress the
minds of the people and to prepare them for some great movement. There
can be no doubt he was possessed in the highest degree with hope for the
coming of the Messiah. He was of the same age as Jesus, and the two
young enthusiasts, full of the same hopes and the same hatreds, were
able to lend each other mutual support, Jesus recognizing John as his
superior, and timidly developing his own individual genius. John was
soon cut short in his prophetic career, and cast into prison, from
which, however, he still exercised a wide influence.

Jesus returned from the neighbourhood of the Dead Sea and the Jordan to
Galilee, his true home, ripened by intercourse with a great man of very
different nature, and having acquired full consciousness of his own
originality. From that time he preached with greater power and made the
multitude feel his authority. The persuasion that he was to make God
reign upon earth took absolute possession of his spirit. He looked upon
himself as the universal reformer. He aimed at founding the Kingdom of
God, or, in other words, the Kingdom of the Soul. Jesus was, in some
respects, an anarchist, for he had no idea of civil government. He never
showed any desire to put himself in the place of the rich and mighty.
The idea of being all-powerful by suffering and resignation, and of
triumphing over force by purity of heart was his peculiar idea. The
founders of the Kingdom of God are the simple--not the rich, not the
learned, not the priests; but women, common folk, the humble, and the
young. He now boldly announced "the good tidings of the Kingdom of God,"
and himself as that "Son of Man," whom Daniel in his vision had beheld
as the divine herald of the last and supreme revelation.


_EARLY SUCCESSES_


The success of the new prophet's teaching was decisive. A group of men
and women, all characterised by the same spirit of childish frankness
and simple innocence, adhered to him, and said, "Thou art the Messiah."
The centre of his operations was the little town of Capernaum, on the
shore of the Lake of Genesareth. Jesus was much attached to the town and
made it a second home. He had attempted to begin the work at Nazareth,
but without success. The fact that his family, which was of humble rank,
was known in the district lessened his authority too much; and it is
moreover remarkable that his family were strongly opposed to him, and
flatly declined to believe in his mission. In Capernaum he was much more
favourably received, and it became "his own city." These good Galileans
had never heard preaching so well adapted to their cheerful
imaginations. They admired him, they encouraged him, they found that he
spoke well, and that his reasons were convincing. The almost poetical
harmony of his discourses won their affections. The authority of the
young master increased day by day, and naturally the more that people
believed in him the more he believed in himself. Four or five large
villages, lying at half an hour's journey from one another, formed the
little world of Jesus at this time. Sometimes, however, he wandered
beyond his favourite region, once in the direction of Tyre and Sidon, a
country which must have been marvellously prosperous at that time. But
he returned always to his well-beloved shore of Genesareth. The
motherland of his thoughts was there; there he found faith and love.

In this earthly paradise lived a population in perfect harmony with the
land itself, active, honest, joyous, and tender of heart, and here Jesus
became the centre of a little circle which adored him. In this friendly
group he evidently had his favourites. Peter, for whom his affection was
very deep, James, son of Zebedee, and John, his brother, formed a sort
of privy council. Jesus owed his conquests to the infinite charm of his
personality and speech. Everyone thought that he lived in a sphere
higher than that of humanity. The aristocracy of the group was
represented by a customs-officer, and by the wife of one of Herod's
stewards. The rest were fishermen and common folk. Jesus lived with his
disciples almost always in the open air, the faithful band leading a
joyous wandering life, and gathering the inspirations of the Master in
their first bloom. His preaching was soft and gentle, inspired with a
feeling for nature and the perfume of the fields. It was above all in
parable that the Master excelled. There was nothing in Judaism to give
him a model for this delightful feature. He created it. In freeing man
from what he called "the cares of this world" Jesus might go to excess
and injure the essential conditions of human society; but he founded
that spiritual exaltation which for centuries has filled souls with joy
in the midst of this vale of tears. In our busy civilisation the memory
of the free life of Galilee has been like perfume from another world,
like the "dew of Hermon," which has kept drought and grossness from
entirely invading the fields of God.


_A GOSPEL FOR THE POOR_


Jesus very soon understood that the official world of his time would by
no means lend its support to his kingdom. He took his resolution with
extreme daring. Leaving the world, with its hard heart and narrow
prejudices, on one side, he turned towards the simple. A vast
rearrangement of classes was to take place. The Kingdom of God was made
for children, and those like them; for the world's outcasts, victims of
that social arrogance which repulses the good but humble man; for
heretics and schismatics, publicans, Samaritans, and the pagans of Tyre
and Sidon. That the reign of the poor is at hand was the doctrine of
Jesus. This exaggerated taste for poverty could not last very long, but
although it quickly passed, poverty remained an ideal from which true
descendants of Jesus were never afterwards separated.

Like all great men, Jesus was fond of common folk, and felt at his ease
with them. He particularly esteemed all those whom orthodox Judaism
disdained. Love of the people, pity for their powerlessness, the feeling
of the democratic leader who has the spirit of the multitude quick
within him, reveal themselves at every instant in his acts and sayings.
He had no external affection, and made no display of austerity. He did
not shun pleasure; but went willingly to marriage feasts. His gentle
gaiety found constant expression in amiable pleasantries. Thus he
journeyed through Galilee in the midst of continual festivities. When he
entered a house, it was considered a joy and a blessing. Children and
women adored him. The children, indeed, were like a young guard about
him, for the inauguration of his innocent kingship, and gave him little
ovations. It was childhood, in fact, in its divine spontaneity, in its
simple bewilderment of joy, that took possession of the earth.

How long did this intoxication last? We cannot tell. But whether it
filled years or months, the dream was so beautiful that humanity has
lived upon it ever since. Happy he to whom it has been granted to behold
with his own eyes this divine blossoming, and to share, if but for a
day, the incomparable illusion! But yet more happy, Jesus would tell us,
shall he be who, by the uprightness of his will, and the poetry of his
soul, shall be able to create anew in his own heart the true Kingdom of
God!


_THE PRIEST IN THE PATH_


Nearly every year Jesus went to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover.
It was, it appears, in the year 31 that the most important of these
visits took place. Jesus felt that to play a leading part he must leave
Galilee and attack Judaism in its stronghold, Jerusalem. There the
little Galilean community was far from feeling at home. Jerusalem was a
city of pedantry, acrimony, disputation, hatreds, and pettiness of mind.
Its fanaticism was extreme. All the religious discussions of the Jewish
schools, all the canonical instruction, even the legal business and
civil actions--in a word, all form of national activity, were
concentrated in the temple. The Romans refrained from entering the
sactuary; the surveillance of the Temple was in the hands of the Jews.
It was in the Temple that Jesus spent his days during his sojourn at
Jerusalem, and all that he saw aroused his aversion. These old Jewish
institutions displeased him, and the necessity of conforming to them
gave him pain. He who gave forgiveness to all men, provided they loved
him, could find nothing congenial in vain disputations and obsolete
sacrifices, and apparently he brought from Jerusalem one idea
thenceforth rooted in his mind--that there was no understanding possible
between him and the ancient Jewish religion. He no longer took his stand
as a Jewish reformer, but as a destroyer of Judaism. In other words,
Jesus is no longer a Jew. He is, in the highest degree, a revolutionary;
he calls all men to a worship founded solely on the ground of their
being children of God. Love of God, charity, and mutual forgiveness--in
these consisted his whole law. Nothing could be less sacerdotal. It was
on his return from Jerusalem, as he passed near Shechem, and when
talking with a Samaritan woman, that Jesus gave utterance to the saying
upon which will rest the edifice of eternal religion--Believe me, the
hour cometh when neither in this mountain nor in Jerusalem shall ye
worship the Father ... but the hour cometh, and now is, when the true
worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth. On the day
when he said these words he was truly Son of God.

Jesus returned to Galilee full of revolutionary ardour. His innocent
aphorisms and beautiful moral precepts now culminated in a decided
policy. The law is to be abolished, and it is he that will abolish it.
The Messiah is come, and it is he that is the Messiah. The Kingdom of
God is about to be revealed, and it is he that will reveal it. He knew
well that he would be the victim of his own audacity, but it was by
cries and the rending of hearts that the kingdom had to be established.

The proposition "Jesus is the Messiah" was followed by the proposition
"Jesus is the Son of David," and, by an entirely spontaneous conspiracy,
fictitious genealogies arose in the imaginations of his partisans, while
he was still alive, to prove his royal descent. We cannot tell whether
he knew anything of these legends. He never designated himself Son of
David. That he ever dreamed of making himself pass for an incarnation of
God is a matter about which no doubt can exist. Such an idea was
entirely foreign to the Jewish mind. He believed himself to be more than
an ordinary man, but separated by an infinite distance from God. He was
the Son of God, but all men are, or may become so in divers degrees.
Jesus apparently remained a stranger to the theological subtleties which
were soon to fill the world with sterile disputations.


_TIME-WORM PROOFS_


Two means of proof--miracles and the accomplishment of prophecies--could
alone establish a supernatural mission in the opinion of the
contemporaries of Jesus. He himself, but more especially his disciples,
employed these two methods of demonstration in perfect good faith. For a
long time Jesus had recognised himself in the sacred oracles of the
prophets. As to miracles, they were considered at this epoch the
indispensable mark of the divine, and the sign of the prophetic
vocation. Jesus, therefore, was compelled either to renounce his mission
or become a thaumaturgist. It must be remembered that not only did he
believe in miracles, but he had not the least idea of an order of nature
under the reign of law. On that point, his knowledge was in no way
superior to that of his contemporaries. Indeed, one of his most
deeply-rooted opinions was that by faith and prayer man had entire power
over nature. Almost all the miracles Jesus believed he performed seem to
have been miracles of healing. The kind of healing which he most often
practised was exorcism, or the expulsion of demons. There can be no
doubt that he had in his lifetime the reputation of possessing the
greatest secrets of the art. There were many lunatics in Judaea
wandering at large, and no doubt Jesus had great influence over these
unhappy beings. Circumstances seem to indicate that he became a
thaumaturgist late in life and against his own inclinations. He accepted
miracles exacted by public opinion rather than performed them.


_THE NEW KINGDOM OF GOD_


During the eighteen months between the return from the Passover of the
year 31 and his journey to the feast of tabernacles in the year 32, all
that was within Jesus developed with an ever-increasing degree of power
and audacity. The fundamental idea of Jesus from his earliest days was
the establishment of the Kingdom of God. This kingdom he appears to have
understood in divers senses. At times it is the literal consummation of
apocalyptic visions relating to the Messiah. At other times it is the
spiritual kingdom, and the deliverance at hand is the deliverance of the
soul. The revolution desired by Jesus in this last sense is the one
which has really taken place. That the coming of the end of the world
and the appearance of the Messiah in judgment was taken literally by the
disciples, and at certain moments by the Master himself, appears
absolutely clear. These formal declarations absorbed the minds of the
Christian family for nearly seventy years. The world has not ended, as
Jesus announced, and as his disciples believed it would end. But it has
been renewed and in one sense renewed as Jesus desired. By the side of
the false, cold, impossible idea of an ostentatious advent, he conceived
the real City of God, the raising up of the weak, the love of the
people, esteem for the poor, and the restoration of all that is humble
and true and simple. This restoration he has depicted, as an
incomparable artist, in touches which will last for eternity. His
Kingdom of God was doubtless the apocalypse which was soon to be
unfolded in the heavens. But besides this, and probably above all, was
the soul's kingdom, founded on freedom, and on the feeling of sonship
which the good man knows in his rest on the bosom of his Father. This is
what was destined to live. This is what has lived.


_THE CLASH OF OLD AND NEW_


Throughout the first epoch of his career, it seems as though Jesus met
with no serious opposition; but when he entered upon a path brilliant
with public successes the first mutterings of the storm began to make
themselves heard. He recognised only the religion of the heart, while
the religion of the Pharisees almost exclusively consisted of
observances. As his mission proceeded, his conflicts with official
hypocrisy became incessant. His goal was in the future, not in the past.
He was more than the reformer of an obsolete religion; he was the
creator of the eternal religion of humanity. A hatred which death alone
could satisfy was the consequence of these controversies. The war was to
the death. Judaea drew him as by a charm; he wished to attempt one last
effort to win the rebellious city, and seemed anxious to fulfil the
proverb that a prophet ought not to die outside Jerusalem.

At the feast of tabernacles in the year 32, his relatives, always
malevolent and sceptical, pressed him to go there. He set out on the
journey unknown to every one and almost alone, and never again saw his
beloved northern land.

In Jerusalem, Jesus was a stranger. There he felt a wall of resistance
he could not penetrate. At every step he met with obstinate scepticism.
The arrogance of the priests made the courts of the Temple disagreeable
to him, and his criticisms naturally exasperated the sacerdotal caste.
Imagine a reformer going, in our own time, to preach the overthrow of
Islamism round the Mosque of Omar! His teaching in this new world was
greatly modified; he had to become controversialist, jurist, theologian,
though when alone with his disciples his gentle and irresistible genius
inspired him with accents full of tenderness.


_APPROACHING THE CRISIS_


Jesus spent the autumn and part of the winter in Jerusalem. In the new
year he undertook a journey to the banks of the Jordan, the district he
had visited when he followed the school of John. After this pilgrimage
he returned to Bethany, a place he especially loved, and where he knew a
family whose friendship had a great charm for him. In impure and
depressing Jerusalem, Jesus was no longer himself. His mission weighed
him down, and he let himself be carried away by the torrent. The
contrast between his ever-increasing exaltation and the indifference of
the Jews became wider day by day. At the same time the public
authorities began to be bitter against him. In February, or early in
March, the council of the chief priests asked clearly the question "Can
Jesus and Judaism exist together?" The High Priest was Joseph Kaiapha,
but beside and behind him we always see another man, Hanan, his
father-in-law. He had been High Priest, and in reality kept all the
authority of the office. During fifty years the pontificate remained in
his family almost without interruption. The family spirit was haughty,
bold, and cruel. It was Hanan, his family, and the party he represented,
who really put Jesus to death. After the death of Jesus was decided, he
escaped for a short time by withdrawing to an obscure town, Ephron, and
letting the storm pass over; but when the feast of the Passover drew
nigh, he set out to see for the last time the unbelieving city. His
followers all believed that the Kingdom of God was about to be realised
there. As to Jesus, he grew confirmed in the conviction that he was
about to die, but that his death would save the world.

During these last days a deep sadness appears to have filled the soul of
Jesus, which was generally so joyous and serene. The enormous weight of
the mission he had accepted bore cruelly upon him. All these inward
troubles were evidently a sealed chapter to his disciples. His divine
nature, however, soon gained the supremacy, and henceforth we behold him
entirely himself and with his character unclouded. Each moment of this
period is solemn, and counts more than whole ages in the history of
humanity. A lofty feeling of love, of concord, of charity, and of mutual
deference, animated the memories cherished of these last hours.


_VICTORY THROUGH DEFEAT_


It was in the garden of Gethsemane that the guards of the Temple,
supported by a detachment of Roman soldiers, executed the warrant of
arrest. The course which the priests had determined to take against
Jesus was in perfect conformity with the established law. The warrant of
arrest probably came from Hanan, and before this powerful man Jesus was
first brought for examination as to his doctrine. Jesus, with just
pride, declined to enter into long explanations--he asked the ex-high
priest to question those who had listened to him. Hanan then sent him to
his son-in-law, Kaiapha, at whose house the Sanhedrim was assembled. It
is probable that here, too, he kept silence. The sentence was already
decided, and they only sought for pretexts. With one voice the assembly
declared him guilty of a capital crime. The point now was to get Pilate
to ratify the sentence. On being informed of the accusation, Pilate
showed his annoyance at being mixed up in the matter, and called upon to
play a cruel part for the sake of a law he detested. Perhaps the
dignified and calm attitude of the accused made an impression upon him.
To excite the suspicion of the Roman authorities, the charges now made
were those of sedition and treason against the government. Nothing could
be more unjust, for Jesus had always recognised the Roman government as
the established power. Asked by Pilate if he really were the king of the
Jews, Jesus, according to the fourth gospel, avowed his kingship, but
uttered at the same time the profound saying, "My kingdom is not of this
world." Of this lofty idealism Pilate understood nothing. No doubt Jesus
impressed him as being a harmless dreamer. When, however, the people
began to denounce Pilate's lack of zeal, in protecting an enemy of
Caesar, he surrendered, throwing on the Jews the responsibility for what
was about to take place. It was not Pilate who condemned Jesus. It was
the old Jewish party; it was the Mosaic law. Intolerance is a Jewish
characteristic. The Pentateuch has been the first code of religious
terrorism in the world. It was, however, the chimerical "King of the
Jews," not the heteradox dogmatist, who was punished, and the execution
took the Roman form of crucifixion, carried out by Roman soldiers.

The horrors of that ignominious death were suffered by Jesus in all
their atrocity. For a moment, according to certain narratives, his heart
failed him; a cloud hid from him the face of his Father; he endured an
agony of despair more acute a thousand times than all his torments. But
his divine instinct again sustained him. In measure as the life of the
body flickered out, his soul grew serene, and by degrees returned to its
heavenly source. He regained the idea of his mission, in his death he
saw the salvation of the world; the hideous spectacle spread at his feet
melted from his sight, and profoundly united to his Father, he began
upon the gibbet the divine life which he was to live in the heart of
humanity through infinite years.

Rest now in thy glory, noble pioneer! Thy work is achieved, thy divinity
established. At the price of a few hours of suffering, which have not
even touched thy mighty soul, thou hast purchased the fullest
immortality. For thousands of years the world will depend upon thee! A
thousand times more alive, a thousand times more loved since thy death
than during the days of thy pilgrimage here below, thou shalt become so
truly the cornerstone of humanity that to tear thy name from this world
were to shake it to its foundations.

Whatever the unexpected phenomena of the future, Jesus will never be
surpassed. His worship will constantly renew its youth; the legend of
his life will bring ceaseless tears; his sufferings will soften the best
hearts; all the ages will proclaim that amongst the sons of men none has
been born who is greater than Jesus.

       *       *       *       *       *



EMANUEL SWEDENBORG


HEAVEN AND HELL


     Emanuel Swedenborg, author of a strange system of mystical
     theology, was of Swedish nationality and was born at Stockholm
     on January 29, 1688. He was educated at Upsala, and after
     travelling for several years in Western Europe was appointed
     to a post in the Swedish College of Mines. Thenceforth, until
     he was 55 years of age, Swedenborg pursued, with equal
     industry and ingenuity, the career of a man of science, doing
     valuable work in mathematics, astronomy, navigation,
     engineering, chemistry, and especially in mining and
     metallurgy. These inquiries were followed by studies in
     philosophy and anatomy and physiology. But about the year 1744
     certain visions and other mystical experiences began to take
     hold of his mind, and three years later Swedenborg had come to
     regard himself as the medium of a new revelation of divine
     truth. His message, or theory, or vision, was first
     promulgated in the eight quarto volumes of the "Heavenly
     Arcana," published in London from 1749 to 1756, and this was
     followed by "Heaven and Hell," 1758, the work now before us,
     the full title of which is "Heaven and Its Wonders, the World
     of Spirits, and Hell: described by one who had heard and seen
     what he relates," and several other apocalyptic books, all of
     which were written in Latin. The main features of Swedenborg's
     theology were a strong emphasis on the divinity of Christ, the
     proclamation of the immediate advent of the "New Jerusalem,"
     foretold by the seer of Patmos, and the conception of
     correspondences between the natural, spiritual, and mental
     worlds. His followers, known as Swedenborgians, or more
     properly as "The New Church signified by the New Jerusalem in
     the Revelation," are widely spread but not very numerous, in
     England and in the United States. Swedenborg died in London on
     March 29, 1772.


_I.--OF HEAVEN_


The first thing necessary to be known is, who is the God of heaven; for
everything else depends on this. In the universal heaven, no other is
acknowledged for its God, but the Lord Alone; they say there, as He
Himself taught, that He is One with the Father; that the Father is in
Him, and He in the Father; that whosoever seeth Him, seeth the Father;
and that everything holy proceeds from Him. I have often conversed with
the angels on this subject, and they constantly declared that they are
unable to divide the Divine Being into three, because they know and
perceive that the Divine Being is one, and that He is One in the Lord.

The angels, taken collectively, are called heaven, because they compose
it: but still it is the Divine Sphere proceeding from the Lord, which
enters the angels by influx, and is by them received, which essentially
constitutes it, both in general and in particular. The Divine Sphere
proceeding from the Lord is the good of love and the truth of faith: in
proportion, therefore, as the angels receive good and truth from the
Lord, so far they are angels, and so far they are heaven.

As in heaven there are infinite varieties, and no society is exactly
like another, nor indeed any angel, therefore heaven is divided in a
general, in a specific, and in a particular manner. It is divided, in
general, into two kingdoms, specifically, into three heavens, and in
particular, into innumerable societies.

There are angels who receive the Divine Sphere proceeding from the Lord
more and less interiorly. They who receive it more interiorly are called
celestial angels; but they who receive it less interiorly are called
spiritual angels. Hence, heaven is divided into two kingdoms, one of
which is called the Celestial Kingdom, and the other, the Spiritual
Kingdom.

The angels of each heaven do not dwell all together in one place, but
are divided into larger and smaller societies, according to the
difference of the good of love and faith in which they are grounded;
those who are grounded in similar good forming one society. There is an
infinite variety of kinds of good in the heavens; and every angel is
such in quality as is the good belonging to him.

That heaven, viewed collectively, is in form as one man, is a mystery
which is not yet known to the world: but it is well known in the
heavens; for the knowledge of this mystery, with the particular and most
particular circumstances relating to it, is the chief article of the
intelligence of the angels; since many other things depend upon it,
which, without a knowledge of this as their common centre, could not
possibly enter distinctly and clearly into their ideas. As they know
that all the heavens together with their societies are in form as one
man, they also call heaven THE GRAND AND DIVINE MAN; divine, because the
Divine Sphere of the Lord constitutes heaven.

From my experience, which I have enjoyed for many years, I can affirm
that angels are in every respect men; that they have faces, eyes, ears,
a body, arms, hands, and that they see, hear, and converse with each
other; in short they are deficient in nothing that belongs to a man
except that they are not super-invested with a material body.

Their habitations are exactly like our houses on earth, but more
beautiful. They contain chambers, with-drawing-rooms, and bed-chambers,
in great numbers, and are encompassed with gardens and flower-beds.
Where the angels live together in societies the habitations are
contiguous, and arranged in the form of a city, with streets, squares,
and churches. It has also been granted to me to walk through them, and
to look about on all sides, and occasionally to enter the houses. This
occurred to me when wide awake, my interior sight being open at the
time.

That it is by derelation from the Lord's Divine Humanity that heaven,
both in whole and in parts, is in form as a man, follows as a conclusion
from all that has been advanced.

There is a correspondence between all things belonging to heaven and all
things belonging to man. It is unknown at this day what correspondence
is. This ignorance is owing to various causes; the chief of which is,
that man has removed himself from heaven, through cherishing the love of
self and of the world. For he that supremely loves himself and the world
cares only for worldly things, because they soothe the external senses
and are agreeable to his natural disposition; but has no concern about
spiritual things, because these only soothe the internal senses and are
agreeable to the internal or rational mind. These, therefore, they cast
aside, saying that they are too high for man's comprehension. Not so did
the ancients. With them the science of correspondences was the chief of
all sciences: by means of its discoveries, also, they imbibed
intelligence and wisdom, and such of them as belonged to the church had
by it communication with heaven; for the science of correspondences is
the science of angels.

It shall first be stated what correspondence is. The whole natural world
corresponds to the spiritual world; and not only the natural world
collectively, but also in its individual parts: wherefore every object
in the natural world, existing from something in the spiritual world, is
called its correspondent. The natural world exists and subsists from the
spiritual world, just as the effect exists from the efficient cause.

Since man is both a heaven and a world in miniature, he has belonging to
him both a spiritual world and a natural world. The interiors, which
belong to his mind, and have relation to his understanding and will,
constitute his spiritual world; but his exteriors, which belong to his
body, and have reference to its senses and actions, constitute his
natural world.

The nature of correspondence may be seen from the face of man. In a
countenance which has not been taught to dissemble, all the affections
of the mind display themselves vividly, in a natural form, as in their
type; whence the face is called the index of the mind. Thus man's
spiritual world shows itself in its natural world. All things,
therefore, which take effect in the body, whether in the countenance,
the speech, or the gestures, are called correspondences.

The angels rejoice that it has pleased the Lord to reveal many
particulars to mankind. They desire me to state from their lips, that
there does not exist, in the universal heaven, a single angel who was
created such from the first, nor any devil in hell who was created an
angel of light and afterwards cast down thither; but that all the
inhabitants, both of heaven and of hell, are derived from the human
race; the inhabitants of heaven being those who had lived in heavenly
love and faith, and those of hell who had lived in infernal love and
faith.


_II--OF THE WORLD OF SPIRITS_


The world of spirits is not heaven nor yet hell, but is a place or state
intermediate between the two. Thither man goes after death; and having
completed the period of his stay there, according to his life in the
world he is either elevated into heaven or cast into hell.

The world of spirits contains a great number of inhabitants, because it
is the region in which all first assemble, and where all are examined
and are prepared for their final abode. Their stay there is not limited
to any fixed period: some do but just enter it, and are presently either
taken up to heaven or cast down to hell: some remain there only a few
weeks; and some for several years, but never more than thirty. The
varieties in the length of their stay depend upon the correspondence, or
noncorrespondence between their interiors and their exteriors.

As men enter the world of spirits, they are distinguished by the Lord
into classes. The wicked are immediately connected by invisible bonds
with the society of hell, and the good, in a similar way, with the
society of heaven, but notwithstanding these bonds, they meet and
converse together. I saw a father conversing with his six sons, all of
whom he recognised; but as they were different in disposition, resulting
from their course of life in the world, after a short time they were
parted.

The spirit of a man, when first he enters the world of spirits, is
similar in countenance and in the tone of his voice to what he was in
the world. The reason is, because he is then in the state of his
exteriors and his interiors are not yet laid open. This is the first
state of man after death. But afterwards his countenance is changed;
being rendered similar to his governing affection or love, which is that
in which the interiors belonging to his mind had been grounded while in
the world, and which had reigned in his spirit while this was in the
body. For the face of a man's spirit differs exceedingly from that of
his body; the face of his body being derived from his parents, but that
of his spirit from his affection, of which it is the image.

That his own life remains with everyone after death is known to every
Christian from the Word. Everyone, also, who thinks under the influence
of good and of real truth, has no other idea than that he who has lived
well will go to heaven, and he who has lived ill will go to hell.

But by deeds and works are not merely meant deeds and works as they
appear in their external form, but as they appear internally. Everyone
knows, that every deed or work proceeds from the will and thought of the
doer; for otherwise they would be mere motions, such as are performed by
automatons and images. The deed or work, then, viewed in itself, is
nothing but an effect, which derives its soul and life from the will and
thought from which it is performed; and so completely is this the case
that the deed or work is the will and thought in their effect, and is,
consequently, the will and thought in their external form. It hence
follows, that such as are, in quality, the will and thought which
produce the deed or work, such, also, is the deed or work itself; and
that if the thought and will are good the deeds or works are good; and
if the thought and will are evil the deeds and works are evil,
notwithstanding in their external form they appear like the former.

To sum up the truths concerning man's state after death, I will say,
first: that man, after death, is his own love, or his own will;
secondly: that, in quality, man remains to eternity, such as he is with
respect to his will or governing love; thirdly: that the man whose love
is celestial and spiritual goes to heaven, but that the man whose love
is corporeal and worldly, destitute of such as is celestial and
spiritual, goes to hell; fourthly: that faith does not remain with man,
if not grounded in heavenly love; fifthly: that what remains with man is
love in act, consequently his life.


_III.--OF HELL_


When treating above respecting heaven, it has everywhere been shown,
that the Lord is the God of heaven, and thus that the whole government
of the heavens is that of the Lord. Now as the relation which heaven
bears to hell, and that which hell bears to heaven, is such as exists
between two opposites, which mutually act against each other, and the
result of whose action and reaction is a state of equilibrium, in which
all things may subsist, therefore, in order that all and everything
should be maintained in equilibrium, it is necessary that he who governs
the one should also govern the other. For unless the same ruler were to
restrain the assaults made by the hells, and to keep down the insanities
which rage in them, the equilibrium would be destroyed, and with it the
whole universe.

It is this spiritual equilibrium that causes man to enjoy freedom in
thinking and willing. For whatever a man thinks and wills has reference
either to evil and the falsity proceeding from it, or to good and the
truth which comes from that source: consequently, when he is placed in
that equilibrium he enjoys the liberty of either, admitting and
receiving evil and its falsity from hell, or good in its truth from
heaven. Every man is maintained in this equilibrium by the Lord, because
he governs both--heaven as well as hell.

Hell, like heaven, is divided into societies; and every society in
heaven has a society opposite to it in hell; which is provided for the
preservation of the equilibrium.

It is by influence from hell that man does evil, and by influence from
the Lord that he does good. But as man believes that whatever he does,
he does from himself, the consequence is that the evil which he does
adheres to him as his own. It hence follows that the cause of his own
evil lies with man, and not at all with the Lord. Evil as existing with
man is hell, as existing with him: for whether you say evil or hell,
amounts to the same thing. Now since the cause of his own evil lies with
man himself, it follows that it is he who casts himself into hell, and
not the Lord; and so far is the Lord from leading man into hell, that he
delivers from hell, so far as the man does not will and loves to abide
in his own evil. But the whole of man's will and love remains with him
after death: whoever wills and loves evil in the world, wills and loves
the same evil in the other life; and he then no longer suffers himself
to be withdrawn from it. It hence results, that the man who is immersed
in evil is connected by invisible bonds with hell: he is also actually
there as to his spirit; and, after death, he desires nothing more
earnestly than to be where his evil is.

From an inspection of the monstrous forms belonging to the spirits in
the hells, it was made evident to me that they all, in general, are
forms of self-love and the love of the world, and that the evils, of
which in particular they are the forms, derive their origin from those
two loves. It has also been told me from heaven, and proved to me by
much experimental evidence, that those two loves--self-love and the love
of the world--reign in the hells and also constitute them; whereas love
to the Lord and love towards the neighbour reign in the heavens and also
constitute them: and that the two former loves, which are the loves of
hell, and the two latter, which are the loves of heaven, are
diametrically opposite to each other.

As by the fire of hell is to be understood all the lust of doing evil
flowing from self-love, by the same is also meant torment, such as
exists in the hells. For the lust flowing from that love is, in those
who are inflamed by it, the lust of doing injury to all who do not
honour, respect, and pay court to them; and in proportion to the anger
which they thence conceive against such individuals, and to the hatred
and revenge inspired by such anger, is their lust of committing outrages
against them. Now when such a lust rages in everyone in a society, and
they have no external bond to keep them under restraint, such as the
fear of the law, and of the loss of character, of honour, of gain, and
of the like, everyone under the influence of his own evil attracts
another and, so far as he is strong enough, subjugates him, subjects the
rest to his own authority, and exercises ferocious outrages with delight
upon all who do not submit to him. All the hells are societies of this
description: on which account, every spirit, and every society,
cherishes hatred in his heart against every other, and, under the
influence of such hatred, breaks out into savage outrages against him,
as far as he is able to inflict them. These outrages, and the torments
so occasioned, are also meant by hell fire; for they are the effects of
the lusts which there prevail.

In order that man may be in a state of liberty, as necessary to his
being reformed, he is connected, as to his spirit, with heaven and with
hell: for spirits from hell, and angels from heaven, are attendant on
every man. By the spirits from hell, man is held in his evil; but by the
Angels from heaven, he is held in good by the Lord.

Thus he is preserved in spiritual equilibrium, that is, in freedom or
liberty.

The particulars which have been delivered in this work respecting
heaven, the world of spirits, and hell, will appear obscure to those who
take no pleasure in acquiring a knowledge of spiritual truths; but they
will appear clear to those who take pleasure in that acquirement; and
especially those who cherish an affection of truth for its own
sake,--that is, who love truth because it is truth. For everything that
is loved enters with light into the ideas of the mind: and this is
eminently the case, when that which is loved is truth: for all truth
dwells in light.

       *       *       *       *       *



THE TALMUD


     The word "Talmud," from the Hebrew verb _lamad_, equalling "to
     learn," denotes literally "what-is-learning." Then it comes to
     mean "instruction," "teaching," "doctrine." What is usually
     called the Talmud consists of two parts: 1. The Mishnah
     (literally, "tradition" and then "traditional doctrine") a
     code of Jewish laws, civil, criminal, religious, and so forth;
     based ostensibly on the Pentateuch, expounding, applying, and
     developing the laws contained in the so-called five books of
     Moses. 2. The Gemara, a word which means literally
     "completion," or "supplement," _i.e._, in reference to the
     Mishnah. Some, however, explain the word as meaning
     "teaching." The word is used technically to denote the
     expansion, exposition, and illustration of the Mishnah which
     is found in the Talmud. Strictly speaking, the word "Talmud"
     denotes the Gemara only, but in its ordinary sense the word
     denotes the Mishnah together with its completion in the
     Gemara. In the Talmud itself, as usually printed, the section
     of the Mishnah to be commented on and illustrated is followed
     by the Gemara in which the opinions of the great Rabbi are
     stated and discussed.

     As in the case of the Mishnah, so, also, the Talmud has six
     principal divisions: these will be followed in the subsequent
     epitomes and need not, therefore, be given here. There are two
     versions or forms of the Talmud: 1. The Babylonian, or that
     due to the studies and discussions of the Jewish doctors in
     the various Hebrew colleges of Babylon (Sura, Pumbaditha, and
     so forth): in this the Gemara is some ten times as large as
     the Mishnah. When we speak of the Talmud it is that of Babylon
     which is always meant. Its language is Eastern Aramaic. 2. The
     Palestinian Talmud, compiled and edited by the heads of the
     Hebrew schools in Palestine, Tiberius, Sepphoris, and so
     forth. Its language is Western Aramaic, and its final editor
     is said to be Rabbi Ashe, who died A.D. 427. This is often
     erroneously called the Jerusalem Talmud. In its present form
     it is only about one-fourth as large as the Babylonian Talmud.
     The latter discusses nearly every section of the Mishnah,
     whereas the Palestine Talmud passes by a large proportion of
     the Mishnah without note or comment. That is, however, because
     much of this latter Talmud has been lost, for, in the time of
     Maimonides (died at Cairo A.D. 1204) the Gemara of the
     Jerusalem Talmud discussed nearly every part of the Mishnah.
     The Mishnah is usually said to have been completed by Rabbi
     Jehudah Hannasi, or the Prince (Hannasi), called simply
     "Rabbi" by way of preeminence, who died in A.D. 210 in his
     sixtieth year. But there are parts of the Mishnah which are
     older, and parts also at least a century later than the death
     of that great scholar. There is no absolute proof that the
     Mishnah was committed to writing until some time after the
     completion of the Palestinian (about A.D. 400) or even of the
     Babylonian (about A.D. 500) Talmud, for, in neither Gemara is
     there any reference to a written Mishnah, nor is a written
     form of the Mishnah implied anywhere. The preservation of this
     wonderful code of Jewish laws was due to memory alone, men
     being appointed in the various synagogues to learn the
     Mishnaic sections and to recite them whenever it was
     necessary. Extracts will be given below from the Mishnah and
     also from the Gemara, the letters M and G preceding paragraphs
     indicating which of the two is summarised.


_DIVISION I.--CALLED SEEDS_


[This part deals first of all with prayer, and then most of all with the
various tithes and donations which are due to the priests, Levites, and
the poor, from the products of the land.]

SECTION I. TREATISE ON BLESSINGS _(Berakot)_. The time for reading or
reciting the Shemang.[32]

_M_. At what time in the evening may shemang be read? From the time when
the priests, having cleansed themselves, enter the sanctuary to partake
of the offering (2) (_i.e._, when the stars come out) until the end of
the first watch (about 10 p.m.). So says Rabbi Eliezar, but otherwise
men extend the time until midnight. Rabbi Gameliel makes the time reach
even to the dawn of the following day. It happened once that his sons
returned home at midnight without having read the shemang. On asking
their father if it was too late he replied that the obligation to
perform the duties of each day is valid until the first light of morning
shows itself.


The morning Shemang.

_M_. From what time may the morning shemang be read? From the moment
when there is light enough to distinguish between purple-blue and white.
Rabbi Eliezar says "between purple-blue and leek-green" (which are
harder to distinguish) (3). Up to when may the morning shemang be read?
Until the sun has risen. Rabbi Jose says "until the end of the third
hour after sunrise, for it is the custom of kings' sons to rise in the
third hour of the day. Yet a good act, such as shemang is, never loses
its virtue whenever it is performed."


The attitude in which the shemang should be read.

_M_. The (strict) School of Shammai say men ought to bow in reading the
evening shemang, but to stand upright when saying shemang in the
morning, their scripture warrant being Deut. vi, 7, "when thou liest
down and when thou risest up." But according to (the more liberal)
School of Hillel, people must be allowed to read the shemang in whatever
attitude they choose, referring to the words in the same passage: "When
thou sittest in thy house and when thou walkest in the way." Why then
the words "when thou liest down and when thou risest up?" Because these
are the acts that men perform when the shemang would be usually read.
Rabbi Tarphon said that once when journeying of an evening, he stooped
in order to read the shemang, with the result that his goods were almost
taken from him by unsuspected robbers. He was told that he would have
deserved it, had he been actually robbed, for not having followed the
decision of the Hillel School. The Gemara on the above Mishnahs gives
the opinions of a large number of Rabbis, reporting also discussions in
which they took part.


The benedictions before and after the Shemang.

_M_. Two benedictions (4) are to be said before the morning shemang, and
one after it.


When the Shemang is rightly read.

_M_. He who reads the shemang without hearing his own voice has yet
discharged his duty if only his heart has gone with the reading.


Persons not to read the Shemang:

Women, slaves, and minors are not commanded to read the Shemang, or to
wear phylacteries. They are, however, expected to recite the eighteen
benedictions, the grace after meat, and also to see that the Mezuza is
attached to the doorpost.[33].


_G_. Where are we taught that the Shechinah rests upon _one_ who studies
the law? In Exodus xx, 24, where it is written: "In all places where I
record my name I will come unto _thee_, and I will bless _thee_." The
Palestine Talmud paraphrases thus: "In every place in which ye shall
memorialise My holy name, My word shall be revealed unto _you_, and
shall bless _you_." Hear, O Israel, Jehovah our God, even Jehovah is
one. Deut. vi, 4. Whoever prolongs the utterance of the word _one_ (Heb.
_ekhad_), his days and years shall be prolonged.

Once, the Rabbis say, the Roman government decreed that no Israelite
should be allowed to study the Law. Immediately after, Rabbi Agiba was
found teaching the Law to crowds of people who had gathered around him.
Some one passing by asked him "Fearest thou not the Roman government?"
To which he said, "I will answer by a parable: A fox was once walking by
a river side when he saw the fish rushing distractedly hither and
thither. On asking them the cause of all their perturbation, they
replied: 'We are afraid of the nets which wicked men are ever setting to
catch us.' 'Why, then,' said the fox, 'do you not leave that dangerous
element and try the dry land with me?' 'Surely,' replied the fish, 'thou
art in this most foolish and unfoxlike, for if it is dangerous for us to
dwell in this, our native element, how much more would it be if we left
it for the dry land?' So," continued Agiba, "all those who study the Law
have the Divine Promise," Deut. xxx, 20: "He is thy life and the length
of thy days."


_DIVISION II--FEASTS_ (MONGeD)


[contains directions for observing the festivals, including the Sabbath.
The aim in all is professedly to make explicit what is implicit in the
Pentateuch. But many late ideas and customs are brought into this
division, of which the Pentateuch knows nothing. Even the feast of Purim
mentioned here it quite unmencioned in the Pentateuch.]


1. TREATISE ON THE SABBATH. Law regarding transfer of goods on the
Sabbath.

_M_. It is commanded in Exodus xvi, 29, that no man go out of his place
on the Sabbath day. This implies that no one is to take goods from his
own premises to those of another.(6). What, however, constitutes one's
own premises? _(Reshut)._ There are many cases to be considered. Suppose
a beggar stand outside and the master of the house inside. If the first
reaches his hand through a window or door to the second, or takes
something out of the hand of the latter, the beggar is guilty, but the
master is absolved. If, on the other hand, the master puts his hand
outside the house, and places something in the beggar's hands, he is
guilty, but the beggar is absolved.

[There are in all four cases treating of the man inside and four of the
man outside.]

_G_. Rabbi Mathra said to Abazi, "There are eight or even ten cases of
transfer." Rab questioned Rabbi, "Suppose one from the outside were
laden in the house with food, fruit, etc. How stands the law? Is the
removal of his body tantamount to the removal of a thing from its
place?" "Yes," said Rabbi; "this is not like the case of removing the
hand, because the latter was not at rest, while in the former, the body,
before and after removal, was entirely at rest." "Suppose," said one
Rabbi to another, "that a person has put bread into an oven and it is
not done by the time the Sabbath begins. May he take it out before it is
spoiled?" "He may lawfully do so if he put it there, believing it would
be fully baked before the Sabbath arrived."


Acts forbidden on Sabbath eve.

_M_. Just before the time of Sabbath evening prayer (7), a man is not
allowed to sit to a barber, to enter a bath, a tanyard, to sit to a
meal, or to begin to act as judge in a Law Court. He must first of all
perform his devotions. But supposing that one has commenced any one of
these acts, then let them be finished.

_G_. A man begins the act of haircutting when the barber's cloth is
spread over him. Bathing has begun if the outer coat has been pulled
off. A man has commenced to tan if his working apron has been tied
around him. A meal begins when the hands are washed or (as some say)
when the girdle has been removed. The process of judging has begun when
the judges have donned their professional robes, or (as some have it)
directly the litigants begin pleading.


The Jew and a non-Jew.

_M_. The school of Shammai forbids a Jew to sell anything to a non-Jew
on the Sabbath eve, or to help him with a load unless the Jew can reach
some neighbouring village before the Sabbath fully sets in. The School
of Hillel, however, allows it.


Miscellaneous prohibitions.

_M_. A tailor must not go out on the Sabbath eve with his needle, lest
he forget it and carry it during the Sabbath. Nor must the professional
writer (scribe) go out with his writing reed on the Sabbath eve.
According to the School of Shammai it is unlawful on the Sabbath eve to
deliver skins to a heathen tanner, or clothes to be washed to a
non-Jewish laundress, unless there be time enough for them to be got
quite ready before the Sabbath begins. But the School of Hillel allowed
perfect freedom in the matter. Rabbi Simeon ben Gemaliel says, "it was
the custom in my parental home to hand over to the non-Jewish laundress
things to be washed, three days before the Sabbath." It is forbidden to
fry meat, onions, or eggs, on the Sabbath eve, unless they can be
completely cooked before the Sabbath begins. Bread must not be put into
the oven, nor cakes on the coal, unless there is time before the Sabbath
comes in for the surface to become encrusted.


Concerning the Sabbath lamp.[34].

_M_. Wherewith may one light the Sabbath lamp? Not with wicks made with
cedar moss, or raw flax, or silk fibre, or weeds growing in water, or
ship moss. Nor shall pitch, wax, cottonseed oil, or oil of rejected
offerings, or oil from sheeptail fat, be used for these lamps.

_G_. The Rabbis allowed the aforementioned ingredients to be used for
the Sabbath fires, though not for the Sabbath lamps. Why are wicks made
of the above materials prohibited? Because they give but a flickering
light. The oily substances mentioned are forbidden because they do not
adhere to the wick.


About extinguishing the Sabbath lamp.

_M_. He who extinguishes the Sabbath lamp for fear of non-Jews or
robbers or of evil spirits, or in order that the sick may sleep, is free
from guilt. But if the object is merely to save expense the lamp
extinguisher stands condemned.


Three things to say on the Sabbath eve.

_M_. I. Have ye tithed the food to be eaten on the

Sabbath? 2. Have ye made the _erub?_ 3. Light ye the Sabbath lamp.


Man's two Sabbath angels.

_G_. As he returns home from the Synagogue on the Sabbath eve, every man
is accompanied by two angels, one good, the other evil. If, on coming
home, the man finds the lamp lit, the tables spread, and everything in
order, the good angel says, "May the coming Sabbath be as this present
one." To which the evil angel is compelled reluctantly to respond
"Amen." But if everything be in disorder the bad angel says, "May the
coming Sabbath be as the present one." To which the good angel is
obliged reluctantly to respond, "Amen."


The overturning of Mount Sinai. (9).

_G_. When the Israelites refused to believe the words of Moses after he
had returned from the mountain, the Holy One, blessed be He, inverted
the mountain above them like a top, and said unto them, "If ye receive
the Law, well, but if not, your graves shall be here."


Lucky and unlucky birthdays.

_G_. Rabbi Simon ben Levi said that whoever is born on the first day of
the week (Sunday) will be either thoroughly good or thoroughly bad,
because on that day light and darkness were created. If on the second
day of the week, he will be stingy, because the waters were divided on
that day. If on the third day, he will be rich and prosperous, because
on that day abundant vegetation was created. If on the fourth day, he
will be wise and happy, because on that day the luminaries were fixed.
If on the fifth day, he will be good-natured, because fishes and fowls
were then created, and these are fed by God alone. If on the sixth day,
he will be likely to give himself to good works, because that is the
Sabbath preparation day. If, however, he be born on the Sabbath, he will
also die on the Sabbath, as a punishment for his desecration of that
sacred day by his birth.


2. TREATISE ON THE PASSOVER (_Pesakhin_). No. 3 in order.

_M._ On the eve of the fourteenth Nisan, search must be made for leaven
by the light of a lamp (10).

_G._ What means the Hebrew word _or_? (Translated above "on the eve
of"). Rabbi Huna says it means, "when the day begins to dawn": but
according to Rabbi Jehuda it means "at night," but in Genesis xliv, 3,
and 2nd Sam. xxiii, 4, the verb means "to get day, to dawn," so that
Rabbi Huna is right. Abazi said that no student should enter upon his
studies just before the dawn of the fourteenth Nizan, lest he forget to
search for leaven.

_G._ To Amorain (11) propose the following question: "Suppose a man let
a house to another, telling him that he had removed all leaven but
subsequently it was found that some leaven had been left. Is the
agreement to take the house binding?" Abazi said, "Yes, it is, for it is
better that each householder sees for himself that all leaven has been
removed. Before beginning the search for leaven a blessing must be said,
as, indeed, before any religious act is performed."


By the light of the lamp.

_G._ The light of the sun or of the moon or of a flame of fire may not
be used in searching for leaven, as the Rabbis say is taught in
Zephaniah i, 12 (I will search Jerusalem with lights), and Prov. xx, 27
(Man's soul is Jehovah's lamp searching the inner chambers of the body.)


3. TREATISE ON NEW YEAR'S DAY (_Rosh Hashshanah_). No. 8 in order.

_G._ The generation before the flood was punished with boiling water.
(12).


4. TREATISE ON THE ROLL (13) _(Megillah)._ No. 10 in order.

_M_. The Megillah _(i.e._, Esther) is sometimes read on the 11th, 12th,
13th, 14th, or 15th of the month Adar, not earlier nor later (for
details see the Mishnah and Gemara).

_G_. Rabbi Jehuda says on the authority of Samuel, that the book of
Esther does not defile the hands (14), _i.e._, that this book was not
given by the inspiration of God. Samuel, however, explained that Esther
was dictated by the Spirit of God, but only to be orally repeated, and
not to be written.

_G_. When a scroll of the Law has become through age unfit for use it is
to be buried in an earthen vessel, as is said in Jeremiah xxii, 14, "And
put them in an earthen vessel, that they may continue many days." A
scroll of the Law ought never to be sold unless the object be to enable
the seller to study the Law better, or to take himself a wife. Rabbi
Simon ben Gemaliel said "whoever sells a scroll of the Law, or a
daughter, though he does it because he has nothing to eat, will have no
good from the purchase money."


5. TREATISE DEALING WITH THE LAWS ABOUT FESTIVAL OFFERINGS. _(Khagiga)._
No. 12 in order.

Those under an obligation to offer the burnt offerings during the three
_great_ annual Feasts.

_M_. Everyone is under an obligation to offer the burnt offering except
the following: A deaf man, a fool, a child, one of doubtful sex, one of
double sex, a woman, a slave, a lame man, a blind man, a sick man.

What is meant by a child? One not able to ride upon his father's
shoulders in order to go up from Jerusalem to the Temple. So say the
School of Shammai, but the Hillel School define child, "One unable to
take hold of his father's hand to go from Jerusalem to the Temple."

_G_. What does the expression "everyone" include?

Him who is half a slave and half free and also him who is lame on the
first day and well on the second day, as well as the man who is blind in
one eye, except the deaf man, a fool, and a child, and so forth. A deaf
man is like a fool and a child, for he is not responsible for his
actions any more than they are.


THE WORD TOHU RIGHTLY TRANSLATED "VOID" IN GENESIS i. 2.

_G_. Tohu is a green line (Heb. Qav or Qaw) which surrounds the entire
world, and from which darkness proceeds. (15).


THE SEVEN HEAVENS (16).

_G_. Resh Lagish used to say, "There are seven heavens, named as
follows: 1. Vilon (equals Velum, a curtain). 2. Ragiang. 3. Sheklagim.
4. Zebul. 5. Mangon. 6. Makon. 7. Ngarabot."


SATAN AND HIS COMPANIONS ENDEAVOURING TO STEAL A HEARING OF GOD'S WORDS.

_G_. Satan and his fellow-fallen angels are in the habit of listening
from behind a curtain to the words which God speaks to the angels in
heaven (17).


_III.--WOMEN (NASHIM)_


[This division deals with betrothals, marriage, divorce, and the like.
One treatise discusses vows.]


1. TREATISE ON WIDOWS UNDER AN OBLIGATION TO UNDERGO THE LEVIRITE
MARRIAGE _(Yebamot)._ No. I in order (18).

_M_. A childless widow is under an obligation to marry the eldest
unmarried brother of her deceased husband. If that brother-in-law
refuses to marry her, she is allowed in the presence of the nation's
leaders to loose his shoe from his foot, to spit in his face, and to say
to him, "Thus shall be done to the man who will not build up his
brother's house." (see Deut. xxii, 9).

The following classes of women are released from the necessity of
marrying any brother-in-law: 1. The illegitimate daughter of the
brother. 2. Her daughter. 3. The daughter of his illegitimate son. 4.
His wife's daughter. 5. Her son's daughter. 6. Her daughter's daughter.
7. His mother-in-law. 8. The mother of his mother-in-law. 9. The mother
of his father-in-law, and so forth.


2. TREATISE ON VOWS (_Nedarim_). No. 3 in order.

The Scriptures Given as a Punishment for Men's Sin.

_G._ If the Israelites had not been guilty of sin they would never have
required more Scripture than the Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua. The
last is indispensable as it records the way in which the land was
divided among the Israelites. The other Scriptures (the Prophets and the
Writing) because in much wisdom there is grief. (Eccles. i, 18).


3. TREATISE ON BETROTHALS (_Qidushin_). No. 7 in order.

The Families Who went up from Babylon to Jerusalem.

_M._ Ten kinds of families left Babylon for Palestine after the edict of
Cyrus went forth in B.C. 538 permitting the nation to return. These were
as follows: 1. Priests. 2. Levites. 3. Israelites. 4. Degraded Priests
(lit. profaned ones). 5. Proselytes (19). 6. Freedmen. 7. Bastards. 8.
Netinim. 9. Those of unknown lineage. 10. Foundlings. The three first
are allowed to intermarry: the last six may also intermarry. All those
whose mother is known but not their father are said to be of unknown
lineage. A foundling is one picked up in the streets whose parents are
both unknown.


The Evil of Idolatry.

_G_. The worship of idols is so grave a sin that he who renounces or
disavows it does as much as if he confessed his belief in the whole law.


Sons More Desirable than Daughters.

_G_. The world cannot exist without males and females, yet blessed is he
whose children are boys, and unlucky he whose children are girls. Cf.
Baba Bathra, p. 113, col. I:--"Whoever does not leave a son to be heir,
God will heap wrath upon him."


_IV.--CONCERNING PENALTIES_ (NEZIKIN)


[In this division the principal part of the civil and criminal court of
the Hebrews is included. See especially the treatise "Sanhedrin."]


1. TREATISE CALLED LIT. Chap. I, or THE FIRST GATE. (20)(Heb. _Baba
Qama_.)

Damages to be made good by those responsible for them.

_M_. There are four principal causes of damage to life and property. I.
The Ox. 2. The Uncovered Pit. 3. The Man who sets fire to anything. 4.
The Fire which starts of its own accord through neglect.

Whenever damage is done in any of these four ways the one that is
responsible for it must make the loss good.

_G_. The Rabbis teach that there are many specific forms of the above
four kinds of injuries, _i.e._, the ox can do an injury with his horns,
his teeth, or his feet.


Accident through falling over a jug or barrel.

_M_. If anyone places a jug on a public road and another person stumbles
over it and breaks it, the latter is not liable for the breakage. But if
he is injured by the fall, the owner of the barrel is liable for the
damage.

_G_. The Mishnah uses "jug" in the first clause and "barrel" in the
second. Rabbi Papa said that the same thing is meant in both cases.


On breaking a jug full of water on a public road.

_M_. If a jug full of water breaks on a public road and its contents
cause a person to slip, or if in any way one is injured by the pieces,
he who carries the jug is liable for any injury. Rabbi Jehuda, however,
says he is only liable if he breaks it intentionally.


2. TREATISE CALLED THE MIDDLE CHAPTER (Heb. _Baba Metsia_). 2nd in
order.

_G_. It was Elijah's custom to frequent the Rabbi's council chamber. On
one occasion, being later than usual, Rabbi asked him to explain his
delay. Elijah answered as follows: "It is my business to wake up
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob one after the other, to wash each one's hand,
and to wait until each one has said his prayers and returned to rest."
"But," said Rabbi, "why don't they all rise at the same time?"
"Because," was Elijah's reply, "if they all three prayed at once, their
united prayers would precipitate the advent of the Messiah before its
appointed time." "Then," said Rabbi, "have we amongst us such praying
people?" Elijah said there were, mentioning Rabbi Khizah and his sons.
Rabbi then proclaimed a fast, which Rabbi Khizah and his sons came to
observe. When repeating the 18 benedictions (21) they were about to say
"Thou restorest life to the dead" when the world was convulsed and it
was asked in Heaven who revealed to them the secret. Elijah was then
beaten sixty times with a rod of fire. He afterwards came down like a
fiery bear and scattered the congregation.


3. TREATISE CALLED THE LAST CHAPTER _(Baba Bathra_). No. 3 in order.

_G_. The members of the Great Synagogue who wrote the Book of Ezekiel,
the Books of the twelve minor prophets, the Book of Daniel, and the Book
of Ezra (22).


4. TREATISE CALLED SANHEDRIN. NO. 4 in order. [It treats at length of
the institution of the municipal and provincial courts called Sanhedrin
from a Greek word, and also of the great Sanhedrin, or _Bethdin_, at
Jerusalem.]


Jewish Courts and their Constitution.

_G_. [The Sanhedrin was composed of 71 members. If an Israelite had a
point of law to decide, he first proposed it to the Court which met in
his own city. If they failed to decide the matter, it was submitted to
the judgment of the Court of the next city. If the Justices of the
immediate district failed to come to a decision, the case was laid
before the Court which met at the entrance of the Temple area. In the
event of their failing to decide, they appealed to the Court which met
at the entrance to the ante-court. Failure in this Court was followed by
an appeal to the Supreme Court of 71, where the matter was finally
disposed of by a majority of votes.

The Sanhedrin sat in a semicircle in order that the members might be
able to see one another. There were two notaries, one on the right and
the other on the left, to count the "Ayes" and "Noes" in all cases of
voting.]


The authorship of the BOOK OF EZRA.

_G_. [The Book of Ezra was written by Nehemiah. He does not attach his
name to it because he gave too much attention to his own merits, as it
is written (Neh. v, 19) "Think upon me, my God, for good, according to
all that I have done for my people."


5. TREATISE ON IDOLATRY _(Aboda Zara_). No. 8 in order.

_M_. It is forbidden to have any dealings with non-Jews for three days
before they hold their unholy festivals (23). One must not lend them any
money, for that could be useful to them in preparing for the festival.
Nor must one borrow from them, for they would gain thereby and be more
able, out of the interest, to meet the expenses of their coming feasts.
Similarly, one must not pay them any money, even though due, nor in
return must payment be received.

Rabbi Jehuda, however, maintains that payment should be allowed because
that is a displeasure and a disadvantage to those who pay.

_M_. When there is an idol in the city one may go to that city,
providing that the road does not lead to the idol alone. Jews are not
allowed to sell to non-Jews any of the following things, because they
can be used for purposes of heathen worship:--Fir cones, white figs, or
their stems, frankincense, and a white cock. A white cock may, however,
be sold if one of its claws has been cut off, since non-Jews do not
sacrifice an animal when an organ is lacking.


THE BOOK OF YASHAR (see 2nd Sam. i, 18).

_G_. What is meant by the Book of Yashar? Rabbi Khyiah bar Abba on the
authority of Rabbi Jokhanan says "It is the book of Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob, they being called righteous _(yesharim),_ and concerning whom it
is written, Numb, xxiii, 10, 'Let me die the death of the righteous'"
_(yesharim)._


6. TREATISE CALLED "SENTENCES OF THE FATHERS" (Heb. _Pirga Abot_). No. 9
in order.

[This treatise, on which no Gemara has been handed down, contains moral
precepts, aphorisms, and so forth, of the elder Tannain. It has been
often translated, an excellent rendering by the late Dr. Charles Taylor
having been published by the Cambridge Press.]


The Two Tables of the Law.

_M_. The two Tables of the Law, handed to Moses on Mount Sinai, were
created, along with nine other things, at the time when the world was
made, and at sunset, before the first Sabbath began.


_V.--SACRED THINGS, SACRIFICES, MEASUREMENTS OF THE TEMPLE, ETC._


1. TREATISE ON THE MEASUREMENTS OF THE TEMPLE _(Middot)._ 10th in order.

Extent of the Temple Area.

_M_. The Temple Mount was 500 cubits square. The space was largest on
the south, next largest on the east, the third largest being on the
north, and the least, westward. All who entered this area did so on the
south side, going round and passing on to the left.


_VI.--LEGAL PURIFICATIONS, LAWS OF CLEAN AND UNCLEAN, ETC._ (TEHAROT)


1. TREATISE ON PRESERVING THE HANDS FROM CEREMONIAL UNCLEANNESS.
_(Jadaim)._

The Aramaic passages in Ezra and Daniel make the hands unclean (25). But
Aramaic written in Hebrew characters and Hebrew written in Aramaic
(Syriac) characters, or in the primitive Hebrew characters (much like
the Phoenician) do not make the hands unclean. Scriptures, though the
matter is the same, never make the hands unclean unless the characters
or letters, in which they are written, are the square Assyrian letters
introduced by Ezra, the second Moses.

       *       *       *       *       *



ZOROASTRIANISM


ZEND AVESTA


     Zoroastrianism, or, more correctly, Zarathustraism, is derived
     from Zoroaster, or, more strictly, Zarathustra, the founder of
     the religion. Modern scholarship inclines to the belief that
     this great religious leader was born in West Media about B.C.
     600, and carried on his great work in Bactria. The religion
     with which his name is connected is really a reformed and
     spiritualised kind of that Magism which prevailed in Media and
     contiguous countries. The priests, who are called "Atharvans,"
     fire-priests, in the Avesta (compare the same name in
     Hinduism, the Atharvan Veda, etc.) are identical with the
     Magi, priests of the religion which Zarathustra (Zoroaster)
     found in his original and adopted home. According to some, the
     founder of Zarathustrianism lived at a very much earlier time,
     and there are great scholars (Tiele, Darmesteter, Edouard
     Meyer) who wholly deny the historicity of such a character. No
     doubt, in later years, there gathered around Zarathustra an
     immense number of fictitious and silly legends, as was the
     case with Buddha, Jesus, and even Muhammad; but that each one
     of these religious teachers lived and wrought is beyond the
     reach of reasonable doubt.


_INTRODUCTORY_


This is the Bible of the Zarathustrians and of their modern
representatives, the Parsees, who flourish for the most part in Bombay.
The title "Zend Avesta" is an anomaly, for "Zend" is not the name of a
language at all, but means "commentary," the word "Avesta" connoting the
original text on which the commentary is written. The original title
denotes Avesta and Zend, which is a correct description, for what is now
known as the Zend Avesta is really a combination of text (Avesta) and
commentary (Zend), just as the Jewish Talmud is a combination of Mishnah
(text) and Gemara (commentary, or, literally, completion). The word
"Avesta" denotes (perhaps literally) knowledge, being cognate with the
Sanscrit word "Veda." But A.V.W. Jackson derives it from a form
_Upasta_, denoting "the original text." Darmesteter makes the word Old
Persian, denoting "law."

The existing Avesta is more like a prayer book than a Bible, for it is
as a liturgical work that it took on its present form, and as such that
it is now generally used, though the part called "Vendidad" includes a
large number of laws for religious ceremonies and the like.

What is known to modern scholars as the Avesta is, however, only a
portion of the original work, the latter having been largely lost
through the conquests over Persia of Alexander the Great, and especially
owing to the more thorough subjugation of the Sassanid Persians by the
Muslims in A.D. 632. The latter were much more bigoted and
uncompromising in their treatment of other religions and their
literatures than were Alexander the Great and his successors. The
original Avesta, as described in Pahlavi text which have come down to
us, contain twenty-one Nasks or books. These existed, in a more or less
incomplete state, down to the ninth century of our era, to which century
the Pahlavi work "Dindard" belongs.

The Avesta which exists to-day may be divided thus:--

I. The strictly canonical parts, including the following, which will be
more fully described in connection with the summaries.


    1. Yasnas, including the Gathas.
    2. Vispereds.
    3. Vendidads.

II. The Apocryphal Avesta usually called the Khorda Avesta, or the short
Avesta. This is much less esteemed than the Avesta proper. It comprises,

    1. Yashts (invocation).
    2. Minor Prayers.

The language of the Avesta can be correctly described only as Avestan,
for no other literature in the same language exists. It resembles the
Pahlavi, or Ancient Persian, but it is identical with no language. The
Zend, or commentary, is written in the Pahlavi language.

The present writer wishes to express his obligation to the translation
of the Avesta by Spiegel (in German); Hang in his "Essays on Sacred
Language, Writing, and Religion of the Parsees "; and also to those by
Darmesteter and L.H. Mills in the "Sacred Books of the East," volumes
iv, xxiii, xxxiii. On the question whether or not the Achaemenian kings
of Persia, Cyrus I., and so forth, were Zarathustrians, see "Century
Bible,"--Ezra--Nehemiah--Esther.


_I.--YASNAS, OR SACRIFICIAL PRAYERS AND SONGS_


[This section of the Avesta constitutes the principal liturgical
text-book of the great Yasna ceremony, which is made up chiefly of the
preparation and offering of the Parahoma (the juice of the homa or soma
plant mixed with milk and aromatic ingredients). There are seventy-two
chapters in the Yasnas, though they contain a good number of
repetitions. It is in this main part of the Avesta that the five
metrical Gathas are to be found, these being the oldest and by far the
most important of the Avesta.]

CHAPTER I. THE PROCLAMATION OF SALVATION. I (Zarathustra) make known to
Ahura-Mazda the Great God, that I am about to offer him my prayers and
sacrifices. (Yasnas.) He is the greatest and best, the most powerful and
wise. I pay homage, also, to the bountiful immortals (the
Amensha-Spentas), the guardians of the world. And to the body of the
sacred cow and its soul; (i) to Ahura (Jupiter), Mithra the sun, to the
star Sirius; and to the Fravashis (guardian angels of the saints). If I
have offended thee, oh thou greatest one, Ahura-Mazda, or if I have
diminished ought of the sacrifices (Yasnas) due to thee, forgive me, O
forgive me, thou unerring one. I declare myself to be a Mazdaist, a
Zarathustrian, a sworn foe to the Daevas (2) and a worshipper of
Ahura-Mazda.

CHAPTER 4. We present as offerings, pure thoughts, kind words,
beneficent works, the Homa (Soma) flesh-offerings, zaothras (3), the
holy veresma (4), suitable prayers, Gatha hymns, and mathra (the Vedic
mantra) sacred songs--these all we present as sacrifices to Ahura-Mazda,
the holy Srosh (5), to the bountiful immortals, to the Fravashis, and
souls of the pure, and also to the sacred fire of Ahura-Mazda.

CHAPTER 8. I offer to thee, O Ahura-Mazda, sacrifices of all kinds.
Mayest thou, O all-powerful, all-wise one, rule over thy creatures, over
all waters and trees, all empires and dominions, causing fertility,
happiness, and universal justice to abound in the world. In all
conflicts between light and darkness, between the good and the bad, let
the right prevail, O thou king of righteousness. I, Zarathustra, urge
heads of families, chiefs of clans, and rulers of states, to follow the
true religion, that revealed by Ahura-Mazda and proclaimed by his
prophet Zarathustra.

CHAPTERS 9 AND 10. [In some manuscripts these chapters are designated
Homa-Yashts, because they celebrate the praises of Homa and have the
form of Yashts. In these chapters Homa is personified, as, also, in the
Vedas, is the Sanscrit Soma. In the period before the separation of the
Iranians and Indians the worship of the Homa plant (the god of
inspiration, etc.) bulked largely. It died out, however, among the
Iranians at an early period, perhaps owing to its prevalence among their
Indian rivals, who traced to it that very courage with which they
contended against the Iranians. The present chapters belong to the
period of the revival of the Homa cult among the Mazdaists or
Zarathustrians. This comparatively late date is confirmed by the
vocabulary and style of the chapters.]

When Zarathustra was engaged in singing the Dathas and attending the
sacred fire, Homa appeared before him in resplendently supernatural
guise and explained "I am Homa, whom thou shouldst worship as the sages
and prophets of old have done." "Tell me," replied Zarathustra, "who was
it that first worshipped thee by extracting thy juice from the plant?"
"The first," said Homa, "was Vivan-Ghvant whose reward was the birth of
his august and renowned son, Yima, (6) the king, in whose reign there
was neither death, nor scorching heat, nor benumbing cold, but when
fulness of life, perfection of happiness, and unfailing justice
prevailed. The second to worship me," said Homa, "was Athwya, the
blessed one, and to him as a reward was born Thraetaona, who slew the
three-mouthed, three-tailed, six-eyed, thousand-scaled dragon that
wrought such dire havoc in the world. The third to worship me was
Thrita, to whom, in recompense, were born two sons of illustrious name,
one great as ruler of men, and the other a brave warrior who slew the
man-and-horse-swallowing dragon. The fourth was thine own distinguished
father, Pourushasha, and the reward that he received was to have thee, O
great prophet of men, for his son." On hearing which Zarathustra
immediately set about walking around the sacred fire singing lustily the
praises of the god Homa, whom his father had worshipped. "It is Homa,"
sang the prophet, "that gives men knowledge of things new and old. Even
men buried under a weight of book-lore receive from him inspiration and
perception of truth that no books can impart. It is Homa that gives kind
and wealthy husbands to unwed maidens; that fills the sky with clouds
and refreshes the ground with life-giving showers, causing the plants to
grow on the lofty mountains on whose brow thine own sacred plant
(asclepias) flourishes."

CHAPTER 12. [Profession of faith on the part of the new convert, uttered
by the ancient Iranians on their giving up the worship of Daevas and the
nomad life, and on their being received into the religious community
established by Zarathustra.]

Now cease I to be a Daeva worshipper and make profession of the religion
of Ahura-Mazda, proclaimed by Zarathustra. I ascribe all good things
everywhere to Ahura-Mazda, the true, shining and holy one. I will never
more molest Mazdaists. I will forsake the Daevas, the false and wicked
originators of all the mischief in the universe. I forsake also all
Daeva like beings, witches, wizards, and the like. I belong to the
Mazdaist religion, and will support it to my dying day. There is no joy
of virtue but has come from Ahura-Mazda.

CHAPTER 19. The importance and value of the Ahuna-Vairya prayer, said
Zarathustra to Ahura-Mazda "O holiest and best of beings, what words
taughtest thou me before the world was, or human life began its
history?" "It was," responded the supreme being, "the Ahuna-Vairya
prayer. Whoever, O Zarathustra, recites this prayer or intones it, or
even whispers it under his breath, I will carry him safely across the
bridge which leads to paradise. But whoever cuts this prayer short by a
half, a third, a fourth, or by any quantity, his soul shall I keep out
of paradise and it shall wander in sorrow for ever."

CHAPTER 22. ADORATION OF THE FRAVASHIS (GUARDIAN ANGELS OF THE SAINTS).
I will praise the Fravashis, who have existed from time immemorial.
Those of the houses, villages, and provinces, who preserve order in the
heavens above, on the earth, and in the waters. I praise the Fravashis
of Ahura-Mazda, the Fravashis of the bountiful immortals, and those of
Zarathustra and of the Holy Counsellors. All good Yazads (7) deserve
homage and sacrifice.

CHAPTER 35. AHURA-MAZDA AND THE IMMORTALS ADORED AND SUPPLICATED. We
adore thee, O thou great God, Ahura-Mazda, and also the bountiful
immortals. We laud all good thoughts and words and deeds that have been,
are, or will be. It is our duty to live the good life, for that is best
for both worlds. Thine, O lofty spirit, is the kingdom, thine the power,
and thine the glory. Thy righteous rule surpasses every other rule; thy
praise all other praise; thy hymns are the loftiest and best.

CHAPTER 57. IN HONOUR OF SROSH. We pay homage to thee, Srosh, the
obedient and blessed one, the first of creatures to worship Ahura-Mazda,
the Creator. Thou didst also worship the bountiful immortals, and wast
the first to brandish the veresma and to sing the Gathas. Thou didst
slay the all-destroying demon, and thou protectest the world and its
denizens. Thou sleepest not, nor slumberest day or night. Thou teachest
men the true religion--that of Ahura-Mazda.


THE FIVE GATHAS


[_Gatha_ means "song," and is the same word as the Sanscrit _Gita_ (Cf.
p. 61 Bhagavad-Gita). These five gathas include yasnas 28-34, 43-46,
47-50, and 51-53. In metre, vocabulary, and matter, the gathas prove
themselves to be the oldest part of the Avesta. The doctrines taught are
likewise purer and more rational. Note the following:--I. There is one
supreme good deity, Ahura-Mazda, the conception of whom is so lofty
that, in order to save his character, a spirit of evil (Ahriman) has
been invented. To the supreme good spirit are ascribed six attributes
which are often personified. In the later parts of the Avesta these
attributes are made independent persons (the bountiful immortals, or the
Amesha Spentas). But in the Gathas they form with Ahura-Mazda a unity
much resembling the Sabellian trinity. 2. The doctrine of reward and
punishment that is taught in the Gathas is subjective, _i.e._, it makes
a man's reward and punishment consist in change of character,
disposition, etc.

It is a strange coincidence that the highest form of Indian and Iranian
belief is to be found in the earliest literature of these religions,
_i.e._, the Vedas and the Gathas. This does not agree with the opinion
that most prevails, that in religions there is ever progress from lower
to higher forms.

In these Gathas there is a unity of thought and feeling suggesting
strongly unity of authorship. There is general agreement that the one
author to whom at least the great bulk of the Gathas is due is
Zarathustra himself. Roth, L.H. Mills, and other scholars date the
Gathas as they would the Vedas, somewhere between B.C. 1200 and 1500,
and they therefore fix upon the same date for the work of Zarathustra
himself. Other Avestan scholars (A.V.W. Jackson, etc.) fix the date of
Zarathustra's life, and therefore of the Gathas, some time near B.C.
600. If the latter opinion is held, it is probable that the substance of
the Gathas is much older than the form which they take in the Avesta.]

GATHA I, Yasnas 28-34, 29, which is earlier than 28.

THE CALL OF ZARATHUSTRA. The afflicted people cry out aloud to thee, O
Ahura-Mazda, and also to the Asha, the author of the divine order. Why
were we made to be exposed to the attacks of suffering and of sin? The
divine one asked Asha "Hast thou appointed a guardian over this people
to defend them from evil?" Said Asha: "There is no man in this world
that has to bear his lot of suffering and to resist moral adversaries,
but the great Creator knows all about his life, and demands from him all
that he is capable of. No man can choose anyone who is able to secure
justice and happiness in the world." "But I," said Ahura-Mazda, "have
chosen one for this great task, it is Zarathustra, the prophet and
priest." On hearing of his divine appointment, Zarathustra prayed to his
god, saying, "Do thou, O all-wise one, aid me, directing my thoughts,
choosing for me my words, and guiding my steps, for without thee I can
do nothing."

28. ZARATHUSTRA'S PRAYER FOR HELP. Teach me, O loftiest one, thy ways,
and encourage me by thy promises to observe thy ceremonies. When shall I
become acquainted with thine own pure mind, and know what is truly good?
When shall I realise thee in my own soul, and have fellowship with thee
without the mediation of man or angels? I do not ask for riches, or
booty, or worldly prosperity, but for righteousness.

GRATITUDE FOR BLESSINGS ALREADY RECEIVED. Thou hast granted my requests,
and given me the boon which I asked for. May I never offend thee, nor be
ungrateful! Supply my lot with what thou knowest to be best, and not
with what I desire. Make thou clear to me the laws which govern thy
kingdom, that I may be a safe guide to others.

30. THE CREED WHICH ZARATHUSTRA IS TO PREACH. I announce to all who
desire to know, the true doctrine about the Creation. Let all that
listen give heed and shape their ways according to this teaching:--There
were at the beginning two spirits and nothing more--a better principle
and a worse. This pair existed independently each of the other. The good
spirit (Ahura-Mazda) made all that he created perfect and just, like
himself, but the evil spirit (Ahriman) created things that were evil.
Why have the Daevas-worshippers perverted the truth and gone astray from
the right path? Because the creator of evil has taken possession of
them. All such as make their thoughts, words, and deeds conform to the
will of the good spirit have an eternal reward, and their salvation has
already begun. But such as yield to the evil impulses prompted by
Ahriman shall abide eternally in woe and misery.

31. THE TWO PARTIES. Many there are who hiss at this teaching of mine,
and will have none of it, but the people of Ahura give heed thereto. O
supreme spirit of good, grant me by the sacred fire and the holy ritual
some sign that will convince and convert men, so that all may be brought
to thee and be made to abandon their Daevas. O ye bountiful immortals,
will ye give me prophetic knowledge that I may lead men aside from the
error of their ways; what punishment shall be his who strives to set up
in our midst a king belonging to the Daeva party?


GATHA 2. 43-46.

[This part of the Avesta gives a fuller and correcter view of the work
and teaching of Zarathustra than any other.]

43. The Theophany of Ahura-Mazda to Zarathustra. I saw Ahura-Mazda on
high and he made known to me his truth, that I may tell it to men.

44. A PRAYER FOR KNOWLEDGE. Speak thou truly to me, O Ahura-Mazda, and
not falsely as the Daevas do to their worshippers. How came this present
world to be, and to be supported, if not through thee? Who made the sun
and moon and stars, and the waters and the winds and the trees, who, if
not thou? Reveal thou to me, O great one, the inner truth of things.

O ye crowds of men, when will ye call evil, evil, and good, good,
instead of the contrary? Have the Daevas ever supplied good rulers?


_II.--VISPEREDS_


[The word Vispered means "all the lords," and this section is so called
because it contains invocations to all the lords or gods. It consists
almost entirely of extracts from other parts of the Avesta, especially
from the Yasnas. What is not found elsewhere has no special value and
need not be summarised.]


_III.--VENDIDADS_ (LIT. "LAWS AGAINST DEMONS")


[This is not strictly a liturgical work, but a priestly code describing
the various purifications, penalties and expiations by which faults of
various kinds are atoned for, or their consequences annulled. The
existing Vendidads agree almost exactly with Nask (19) of the original
Avesta, the only part of the Avesta in which one of the Nasks has been
completely preserved. The Vendidads are divided into twenty-two Fargads,
or sections.]

FARGAD 3. THE SANCTITY OF AGRICULTURE. The earth should be cultivated,
1. that it may bring forth food for man and beast, 2. because it
promotes human piety. "How is it, O great creator," asks Zarathustra,
"that religion is to be spread?" "By cultivating barley," was the
answer, "for he who cultivates barley, cultivates purity. When barley is
threshed or ground, and when flour is produced, devils whistle, whine,
and waste away, knowing full well that man's idleness is their only
opportunity." (Cf. compare Dr. Watts' line "Satan finds some mischief
still, for idle hands to do.")

FARGAD 4. CIVIL AND CRIMINAL LAW. Whoever refuses to restore property to
one to whom he knows it belongs by right, is a thief. Every day and
night that he keeps this property he is guilty of theft. "How many kinds
of property are there?" asked Zarathustra. "These six," was the answer.
"1. That made by mere words. 2. That made by striking hands. 3. That
made by depositing a sheep as security. 4, 5, 6. Those cases in which
the security is respectively an ox, a man's value, and the value of a
full field." Then there follow details of penalties for violating these
several contracts:--_e.g._, for breaking the first--300 stripes of the
rod, and so forth.

FARGADS 5-18, give the laws for the treatment of dead bodies. The two
determining principles are--1. That a dead body is impure. 2. The
elements earth, fire, and water, are absolutely pure and sacred. Bodies
are not, therefore, to be buried, or they would pollute the earth; nor
are they to be burnt, or they would pollute fire, nor thrown into water
of any kind. They must be carried up to a lofty mountain, placed on
stones, or iron plates, and exposed to dogs and vultures. Impurity from
contact with a dead body, etc., is removed by pure water (Cf. the water
of baptism). Then there follow laws prescribing the counter-charms to be
used against evil spirits; the methods by which the sacred fire must be
made and used, and so forth.

FARGAD 19, treats of the fate of the soul after death.


The Aprocryphal or Khorda Avesta

[The Yashts resemble closely the prayers of the Yasnas and the
Vispereds, differing only in this, that each one of the twenty-four
extant is devoted to the traits of a single deity, or at least of one
class of divine beings (the bountiful immortals, and so forth). The
usual word in the Yashts for the superhuman beings at rest is Yazads.]

YASHT I. The names of Ahura-Mazda and their efficacy.

Asked Zarathustra, "What, O Most High, are the most effective
counter-charms (mantras) against evil spirits?" He received for answer
that the pronunciation of the twenty different names of Ahura-Mazda are
the best and strongest spells. These are the following:--1. The
Revealer. 2. The Herd-giver, etc., etc. The twentieth and last is Mazda,
the All-knowing One.

       *       *       *       *       *




_PHILOSOPHY_



       *       *       *       *       *




 ARISTOTLE


THE ETHICS OF ARISTOTLE


     Aristotle was born at Stagira, a Greek colony on the
     Macedonian frontier, in 384 B.C., when Plato was forty-three,
     fifteen years after the death of Socrates. Going to Athens, he
     became one of Plato's pupils in philosophy at the age of
     twenty. In 342 he became tutor to the future Alexander the
     Great, and some years later opened, again at Athens, his own
     school, whose disciples were called the Peripatetics. He died
     in 322 B.C. His works laid the systematic foundations of every
     science known in his time. His various treatises on logic were
     comprised in the "Organon"; he dealt with psychology and
     metaphysics; with rhetoric and the principles of literary
     criticism. He also systematised the natural sciences; and the
     two works here given, "the Ethics" and "Politics," have
     profoundly influenced ethical and political thought from his
     own day to ours. In particular, his classification of the
     virtues, and his doctrine that virtue lies in a "mean," have
     dominated a vast amount of moral speculation. The treatises as
     we know them are so crabbed and condensed in style as to give
     the impression that they are to a large extent not the
     finished works, but notes and summaries.


_I.--THE END OF LIFE AND THE MEANING OF VIRTUE_


Every art and science, every action, has for its end some good, whether
this be a form of activity or an actual product. The ends of minor arts
are only means to the ends of superior arts. If there is one supreme
end, this is The Good, inquiry into which belongs to the supreme Social
Science [for which the Greek term is Politics]. The name given to this
supreme good, the attainment of which is the object of Politics, is
Happiness, good living, or welfare.

But Happiness itself is variously defined; some identify it with
Pleasure, others with Honour--the first a degrading, and the second an
inadequate view. Platonists find it in an abstract Idea of Good, a
Universal which precludes particulars. There is a great deal to be said
against this doctrine, even as a question of logic or metaphysic; but
apart from that, the theory is out of court, for the all sufficient
reason that its practical value is _nil_--knowledge of the great
Universal Good in the abstract is of no practical use whatever in
everyday life, which is a fundamental point for us.

If, then, there is a supreme dominating Good to be aimed at, what are
the essential characteristics it must display? The Good of all Goods,
the Best, must be complete in itself, a consummation. Whatsoever is a
means to some end beyond fails so far of completeness; when we say that
our end must be "complete," it follows that it must always be an end,
never a means. It is not merely one amongst others of which it is the
best, but the one in which all the others are summed up. It is of itself
quite sufficient for the individual, and that not merely in isolation,
but as a member of society--which it is his nature to be.

Let us then define Happiness as Man's _Work_--the performance of his
function as man. Everything has some specific function, the performance
of which is its Good, and man, too, must have a specific function. Now,
this cannot be the kind of life which he shares with the vegetable or
with the brute creation, therefore it must be the active life of his
distinctive--_i.q.,_ his rational--part, exercised in accordance with
the virtue or virtues which perfect it, and in his life as a whole, not
merely at moments.

Testing our conclusions by the judgments of common experience, we gather
support from them. Goods external, and goods of the body, are reckoned
inferior to goods of the soul, which is recognised as the seat of
activities. The identification of happiness with virtue, however,
necessitates the distinction between active virtue and virtuousness. As
conducing to active virtue, the other kinds of goods are elements in
happiness. We must assume it to be not something granted to us, outside
our own control, but attainable by effort and education.

Virtues are of two kinds: of the intellect, acquired by study; and
moral, acquired by practice. The moral virtues are not implanted by
nature, but we have the capacity for them by nature, and achieve them by
practice, as by practice we acquire excellence in the arts, or control
over our passions. Education, then, is of the utmost importance, since
the state or habit of virtue is the outcome of virtue in act.

The manner, the "how" of action, must be in accord with Right Reason,
whereof we shall speak elsewhere. Here we must recognise that we are not
laying down universal propositions, but general rules which are modified
by circumstances. Our activities must lie in a mean between the two
extremes of excess and defect, and this applies both to the process of
generating virtue, and to its manifestation. The virtues are concerned
with pleasure and pain, because these act as inducements or opposing
influences; Beauty, Advantage, and Pleasure being the three standing
inducements, and Pleasure entering into both the others; so that in one
aspect Virtue is the Best action in respect to pleasure.

But it does not lie in the mere act; the act must be born of knowledge
and of choice done for its own sake, and persistently--the first,
knowledge, being the least important; to make it the most important is a
speculative error.

Now, there are three modes of mind: feeling or passion, faculty, and
habit. We do not praise or blame passion in itself, or the faculty;
therefore virtue can lie in neither, but must be found in habit or
condition. The virtuous habit or condition is what enables that whereof
it is the virtue to perform its function, which, in the case of man, is
the activity of the soul, preserving always a middle course between
excess and deficiency, by choice.

In another sense, however, we must remember that there are qualities in
themselves wrong, and that virtue may be presented as not something
intermediate, but a consummation. But when we name each of these
virtues--Courage, Temperance, Liberality, etc.; the social virtues, or
good manners; the virtues concerned with the passions--we can name the
corresponding excess or deficiency. Justice and the intellectual virtues
demand a separate analysis.

Each virtue stands in opposition to each of the extremes, and each of
these to the other extreme, though in some cases the virtue may be more
antagonistic to one extreme than to the other, as courage to cowardice
more than to rashness. In individual cases, it is difficult to avoid
being deflected towards one or other of the extremes.

Before proceeding with this analysis, we must examine the question of
choice. To be praiseworthy, an act must be voluntary. An act is not
voluntary if it is the outcome of external compulsion. Where there is a
margin of choice, an act must still, on the whole, be regarded as
voluntary, though done "against our will." Of properly involuntary acts,
we must distinguish between the unintentional and the unwilling, meaning
by the latter, in effect, what the agent would not have done if he had
known.

Choice is not the same thing as a voluntary act; nor is it desire, or
emotion, or exactly "wish," since we may wish for, but cannot make
choice of, the unattainable. Nor is it Deliberation--rather, it is the
act of decision following deliberation. If man has the power to say yes,
he has equally the power to say no, and is master of his own action. If
we make a wrong choice through ignorance for which we are ourselves
responsible, the ignorance itself is culpable, and cannot excuse the
wrong choice; and so, when the choice is the outcome of a judgment
disordered by bad habits, men cannot escape by saying they were made
so--they made themselves so. To say they "could not help" doing wrong
things is only an evasion.


_II.--THE MORAL VIRTUES EXAMINED_


Virtues, then, are habits, issuing in acts corresponding to those by
which the habit was established, directed by Right Reason, every such
act being voluntary, and the whole process a voluntary process.

We may now turn to the analysis of the several virtues.

Courage has to do with fear. Not all kinds; for there are some things we
ought to fear, such as dishonour and pauperism, the fear of which is
compatible with dauntless courage, while the coward may not fear them.
Fearlessness of what is in our control, and endurance of what is not,
for the sake of true honour, constitute the courageous habit. Its excess
is rashness or foolhardiness, the deficiency cowardice. Akin to it, but
still spurious, is the courage of which the motive is not Honour but
honours or reputation. Spurious also is the courage which arises from
the knowledge that the danger is infinitesimal; so is that which is born
of blind anger, or of elated self-confidence, or of mere unconsciousness
of danger. True Courage lies in resisting a temptation to pleasure or to
escaping pain, and, above all, death, for Honour's sake. The exercise of
a virtue may be very far from pleasant, except, of course, in so far as
the end for which it was exercised is achieved.

Temperance is concerned with pleasures of the senses; mainly of touch,
in a much less degree of taste; but not of sight, hearing, or smell,
except indirectly. Of carnal pleasures, some are common to all, some
have an individual application. Temperance lies in being content to do
without them, and desiring them only so far as they conduce to health
and comfort. The characteristic of intemperance is that it has to do
with pleasures only, not with pains. Hence, it is more purely voluntary
than cowardice, as being less influenced by perturbing outward
circumstances as concerns the particular case, though not the habit.

Liberality is concerned with money matters, and lies between
extravagance and meanness. Really it means the right treatment of money,
both in spending and receiving it--the former rather than the latter. A
man is not really liberal who lavishes money for baser purposes, or
takes it whence he should not, or fails to take due care of his
property. The liberal man tends to err in the direction of lavishness.
Extravagance is curable, but is frequently accompanied by carelessness
as to the objects on which the money is spent and the sources from which
it is obtained. The habit of meanness is apt to be ineradicable, and is
displayed both in the acquisition and in the hoarding of money.

Munificence is a virtue concerned only with expenditure on a large
scale, and it implies liberality. It lies between vulgar ostentation and
niggardliness. It is possible only for the wealthy, and is concerned
mainly with public works, but also with private occasions of ceremony.
The error of vulgar ostentation is misdirection of expenditure, not
excess. Niggardliness abstains from a proper expenditure.

Magnanimity is the virtue of the aristocrat; its excess is
self-glorification, its deficiency self-depreciation. The magnanimous
man will bate nothing of his claim to honour, power and wealth, not as
caring greatly for them, but as demanding what he knows to be his due.
This character involves the possession of the virtues; the man must act
in the grand manner and on the grand scale. He knows his own
superiority, does not conceal it, and acts up to it. Self-glorification
overrates its own capacities; self-depreciation underrates them and
shuns its responsibilities, being the more reprehensible of the two.

There is a nameless virtue which stands to magnanimity in the same
relation as that of liberality to munificence; these being concerned
with honours, as those with money. The excess is ambition, the
deficiency is the lack of it; but here terminology fails us.

Good temper is a mean between ill-temper--whether of the irascible, the
sulky, or the cantankerous kind--and something for which we have no name
(poor-spiritedness). Friendliness comes between the excessive desire to
please and boorishness. It is a social virtue which might be defined as
goodwill _plus_ tact. Sincerity [there is no English term quite
corresponding to the Greek] is the quality opposed on the one side to
boastfulness, and on the other to mock-modesty; it is displayed by the
man who acknowledges, but who never exaggerates his own merits. In the
social display of wit and humour, there is a marked mean between the
buffoon and the dullard or prig. Shame is a term implying a feeling
rather than a habit; like fear, it has a physical effect, producing
blushes, and seems, in fact, to be fear of disrepute. To the young, it
is a safeguard against vice; the virtuous man need never feel it; to be
unable to feel it implies the habit of vice. Continence is not properly
in the category of moral virtues.


_III.--JUSTICE_


We come now to Justice. A specific habit differs from a specific faculty
or science, as each of the latter covers opposites, _e.g._, the science
of health is also the science of sickness; whereas the habit of Justice
does not cover but is opposed to the habit of Injustice. Justice itself
is a term used in various senses; and the senses in which injustice is
used vary correspondingly. Confusion is apt to arise from these varying
senses not being distinguished. Injustice includes law-breaking,
grasping and unfairness. Grasping is taking too much of what is good
only; unfairness is concerned with both what is good and what is
injurious. But in the legal sense, whatever law lays down is assumed to
be just. Law, however, covers the whole field of virtuous action as it
affects our neighbours, so that in this general sense justice is an
inclusive term equivalent to righteousness. We, however, must confine
ourselves to the specific sense of the terms.

Grasping is, in fact, included in unfairness, which is the real opposite
of specific justice; it includes law-breaking only so far as the law is
broken for the sake of gain. The justice with which we are concerned has
two branches: Distributive, of honours and the like among citizens by
the State, and of private property by contract and agreement; and
Corrective, the remedying of unfair distribution. There are always two
parties, and justice is the mean between the unfairness which favours A
and the unfairness which favours B. Distributive justice takes into
consideration the merits of the parties; corrective justice is concerned
only with restoring a balance which has been disturbed. The distribution
is a question not of equality, but of right proportion; and this applies
to retribution, which is recognised as one of its aspects, _e.g._, the
retribution for an officer striking a private and for a private striking
an officer. Proportional requital is the economic basis of society,
arrived at by the existence of a comparatively unfluctuating currency
which provides a criterion.

In the State, as such, justice is obtained from the law and its
administrators; justice is the virtue of the magistrate. Since he has
nothing to gain or lose himself, it has been supposed that justice is
"another's good," not our own. In the family, justice does not come in,
the whole household being, in a sense, parts of the _pater familias_;
and as you cannot be unjust to yourself, you cannot be unjust to your
household. In the State, what is just is fixed partly by the nature of
things, partly by law or convention.

As to individual acts, injury may arise from a miscalculation, or from
an incalculable accident; it becomes a wrong when it was intentional but
not premeditated, an injustice when premeditated. An act _prima facie_
unjust is not so if done with the free consent of the person injured. It
is the agent of distribution, not the recipient, who is unjust (when
they are different persons); and similarly, the agent, not the
instrument. And even the agent of unjust distribution is not really
unjust unless he was really actuated by motives of personal gain.

The performance of a particular act is easy. To perform it rightly as
the outcome of a right habit, is not; nor is it easy to be confident as
to what is right in the particular case. The man who is just, having the
habit, does not find it easy to act unjustly.

What we must call equity may be opposed to justice, but only in the
legal sense of that term. It is justice freed from the errors incidental
to the particular case, for which the law cannot provide. Injustice,
again, is found in self-injury or suicide; which the law penalises, not
because the individual thereby treats himself unjustly, but because he
does an injustice to the community. It is only by metaphor that a man
may be called unjust to himself, an expression which means that the
relation between one part of him and another part of him is analogous to
the unjust relation between persons.


_IV.--WISDOM, PRUDENCE AND CONTINENCE_


The ensuing discussion of intellectual virtue requires some remarks on
the soul. We distinguish in the rational part, that which knows,
concerned, with the unchanging; and that which reasons, concerned with
the changing. Our intellects and our propensions--not our
sense-perceptions, which are shared with animals--guide our actions and
our apprehension of truth. Attraction and repulsion, in correspondence
with affirmation and denial, combine to form right choice; the
practical--as opposed to the pure--reason having an external object, and
being a motive power.

There are five modes of attaining truth: (1) Concerning things
unalterable, defined as demonstrative science; (2) concerning the making
of things changeable, art; (3) concerning the doing--not making--of
things changeable, prudence; (4) intuitive reason, the basis of
demonstrative science; (5) wisdom, the union of intuitive reason and
science.

Wisdom and prudence are the two virtues of the intellect. Wisdom implies
intuitive reason, which grasps undemonstrable first principles; it is
concerned with the interests not of the moment, the individual, or the
locality. Whereas prudence is concerned precisely with these; it is
essentially practical. Wisdom cannot be identified with statesmanship;
which, again, is not the same as prudence--which applies to the self,
and to the family, as well as to the State; it differs from wisdom as
requiring experience.

Wisdom, knowledge of the ultimate bases, is equally without practical
bearing for those who have acquired a right habit and for those who have
not; just as a knowledge of medical theory is of no use to the average
man. But being an activity of the soul, _ipso facto_, it conduces to
happiness. The general conclusion is that what we have called "prudence"
shows the means to the end which the moral virtues aim at. It is not a
moral virtue, but the moral virtues accord with it. Both are necessary
to the achievement of goodness.

We come now to a second group of qualities, concerned with conduct. We
have dealt with the virtues and their opposing vices. We pass by the
infra-human and the supra-human bestiality and holiness; but have still
to deal with Continence and its contrasted qualities, which are
concerned with the passions.

In the popular view, continence, self-control, is adherence to our
formed judgment. Incontinence is yielding to passion where we know it to
be wrong, and may be indulged in the pursuit of vengeance, honour, or
gain. A number of _prima facie_ contradictions are started out of the
popular views. We find that a man does not act against complete
knowledge or knowledge of which he is fully conscious. The knowledge
may, so to speak, be there, but is in abeyance, a condition which is
palpably exemplified in a drunken man. Now, incontinence is concerned
with pleasures, which are necessary--as for sustenance of life--and
unnecessary but, _per se_, desirable, as honour. Incontinence is a term
applied only by analogy in the case of the latter; its proper
concern--as with the moral vice, which we call intemperance--is with the
former. It implies, however, violent desire, which intemperance does
not. We have examples of such desires in a morbid or diseased form,
species of mania; but here again the term incontinence is only applied
by analogy. Its legitimate application, in short, is restricted to the
normal.

Incontinence in respect of anger is not so bad as in respect of desire.
It is often constitutional, it is in itself painful, and it is not
wanton, being in all three points unlike the other. What we spoke of as
bestiality is more horrible than vice or incontinence, as being inhuman;
but it does less harm. Incontinence means transgressing the ordinary
standards in respect of pleasure and pain. Such transgression, when of
set purpose, and not followed by repentance--consequently, incurable--is
the moral vice of intemperance; which, being characterised by the
absence of violent desire, is worse than incontinence. The latter is
open, and is curable. The confusion between the two is due to their
issuing in like acts; the passionate impulse is temporary; it is not a
formed habit of wrong choice.

Continence is acting on conviction in resistance to passion; not merely
sticking to any and every opinion, which is really rather more like
incontinence. The other extreme, of actual apathy, is rare. Continence
differs from temperance, as implying resistance to strong desires;
whereas temperance implies that such desires are not active.
Prudence--but not the acuteness which is sometimes confused with
prudence--is incompatible with incontinence, which is least curable when
the outcome of weakness.

Here it becomes necessary to make some inquiry as to Pleasure and Pain.
Some maintain that pleasure is never good, some that it is partly good
and partly not; some that it is good, but not the best But it cannot be
bad _per se_, since it may be defined as the unimpeded activity of a
formed faculty. Pleasure, as such, is not a hindrance to any activity,
but its fulfilment; _e.g.,_ the pleasure of speculative inquiry does not
hinder it. As a matter of fact, everyone does pursue pleasure; the
denial that it is good results from thinking of it as meaning only
bodily pleasures. And even they are not evil, but only the excessive
pursuit of them. As to pleasure being fleeting, that is only because
circumstances vary. The pleasure of the unchanging would be permanent.


_V.--FRIENDSHIP_


A quality rendered as "Friendship"--though the Greek and English terms
are not identical in content--now comes under examination. It is a
relation to some other person or persons without which life is hardly
worth living. Some account for it on the principle of "like to like,"
others on the opposite theory. Now, lovableness comes of goodness, or
pleasantness, or usefulness. Love is not bestowed on the inanimate, and
it must be mutual; it is to be distinguished from goodwill or devotion,
which need not be reciprocated.

Genuine friendship must be based on goodness; what rests on pleasantness
(as with the young), or on utility (as with the old), is only to be
recognised conventionally as friendship. In perfection it cannot subsist
without perfect mutual knowledge, and only between the good; hence it is
not possible for anyone to have many real friends. Of the conventional
forms, that which is born of intellectual sympathy is more enduring than
what springs from sexual attraction; while what comes of utility is
quite accidental. The former may develop into genuine friendship if
there be virtue in both parties. Companionship is a necessary condition,
in any case.

Variants of friendship, however, may subsist between unequals, as
between parents and children, princes and subjects, men and women, where
there is a difference in the character of the affection of the two
parties. A certain degree of inequality--though we cannot lay down the
limitation--makes "friendship" a misnomer. One would not desire the
actual apotheosis of a friend, because that would take him out of reach;
it would end friendship. Friendship lies rather in the active loving
than in being loved, though most people are more anxious to be loved
than to love.

Every form of social community--typified in the State--involves
relationships into which friendship enters. The relationships in the
family correspond to those in states; monarch to subjects as father to
children, tyrant to subjects as master to slaves; autocratic rule to
that of the husband, oligarchic rule to that of the wife; what we call
Timocracy to the fraternal relation, and Democracy to the entirely
unregulated household. In some kinds of association, friendship takes
the form of _esprit de corps_. It may be seen that quarrels arise most
readily in those friendships between equals which are based upon
interest, and in friendships between unequals.

Friendship is a kind of exchange--equal between equals, and proportional
between unequals; a repayment. This suggests various questions as to
priority of claim--_e.g.,_ between paying your father's ransom and
repaying a loan, both being in a sort the repayment of a debt. No fixed
law can be laid down--_i.e.,_ it cannot be said that one obligation at
all times and in all circumstances overrides all others.

The dissolution of friendship is warranted when one party has become
depraved, since he has changed from being the person who was the object
of friendship. But he should not be given up while there is hope of
restoring his character. Again, if one develops a great superiority,
friendship proper cannot persist--at least, in its first form. Our
relations with a friend are much like those with our own selves; the
true friend is a sort of _alter ego_. Friendship is not to be identified
with goodwill, though the latter is a condition precedent; we may feel
goodwill, but not friendship, towards a person we have never seen or
spoken to. Unanimity of feeling--not as to facts, but as to ends and
means--is a sort of equivalent to friendship in the body politic. The
reason why conferring a benefit creates more affection than receiving it
seems to be that the benefactor feels himself the maker of the other; we
all incline to love what we produced--as parents their children, or the
artist his own creations.

Self-love is wrong in a sense--the usual sense in which the term is
used, of giving priority to oneself in the acquisition of material
pleasures. But the seeking of the noblest things for oneself is really
self-love, and may involve giving others, especially friends, the
priority in respect of desirable things--even to resigning to another
the opportunity of doing a noble deed. In this higher sense, self-love
is praiseworthy.

The good man is self-sufficing, but friends are desirable, if not
actually necessary to him, as giving scope for the exercise of
beneficent activities, not as conferring benefits upon him. Besides,
man's highest activities must be exercised not in isolation, but as a
member of society, and such life lacks completeness if without friends.
Finally, friendship attains its completest realisation where comradeship
is complete; that is to say, in a common life.


_VI.--CONCLUSION_


We must revert once more to the question of Pleasure and Pain. To say
that pleasure is not good is absurd; he who does so stultifies himself
by his own acts. Eudoxus thought it was _the_ good, his opinion being
the weightier because of his temperateness.

It is desired for its own sake; its opposite is admittedly undesirable.
But since it may be added to other good things, it cannot be _the_ good:
though to say that what every one desires is not good at all is folly.
That it is not "a quality," or that it is "indeterminate," are
irrelevant arguments, both statements applying to what are admittedly
among "goods." The doctrine that it is a process, again, will not hold
water. Pleasure is a thing complete; whereas a process is complete at no
moment unless it be that of its termination. It is the completion of its
appropriate activity; not in the sense that a habit makes the activity
complete, but as its accompaniment and complement. Continuous it is not,
just as the activity is not. It is not the complete life, but is
inseparable from it. Pleasures, however, differ specifically and in
value, as do the qualities with whose activities they are associated.
The pleasures proper to men are those associated with the activities
proper to man as man, those shared with other animals being so only in a
less degree.

It remains to recapitulate the sum of our conclusions regarding Happiness.
It is not a habit, but lies in the habitual activities--desirable in
and for themselves not as means--exercised deliberately, excluding mere
amusement. Man's highest faculty being intelligence, its activity is his
highest happiness--contemplation--constant, sufficient, and sought not
as a means, but as an end.

This kind of happiness belongs to the gods also. Exclusively human, but
below the other, is the fulfilment of the moral life, conditioned by
human society, and more affected by environments and material wants. For
contemplative activity, the barest material needs suffice. But this does
not of itself induce the moral life, being apart from conduct. To induce
morality, not only knowledge, but the right habit of action--which does
not follow from knowledge and may be implanted without it--is absolutely
necessary. Compulsion may successfully establish the habit where
argument might fail. Compulsion, therefore, is the proper course for the
State to take.

       *       *       *       *       *



MARCUS AURELIUS


HIS DISCOURSES WITH HIMSELF


     Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Roman emperor and Stoic
     philosopher, was born on April 20, 121 A.D. Having been
     adopted by Antoninus Pius, whose daughter Faustina he married,
     he succeeded him as emperor in 161, but freely shared the
     imperial throne with Lucius Verus, who also had been adopted
     by Pius. Marcus Aurelius reigned until his death, on March 17,
     180, in almost uninterrupted conflict with rebellious
     provinces, and often heavily burdened with the internal
     troubles of Rome. But the serenity of this august mind, and
     his constancy to wisdom, virtue and religion, were never
     shaken. For magnanimity, fidelity, resignation, fortitude and
     mercy, he stands unrivalled by any other figure of the pagan
     world. Nor did that world produce any other book which, like
     his, remains as an unfailing companion to every generation of
     the modern age. The charm of these fragmentary meditations
     depends greatly on their convincing candour; there is not a
     trace of the cant and exaggeration that so taint the
     moralisings of lesser men. It depends also on their iron
     stoicism; there are here no doubtful comforts, no rosy
     illusions. But it depends chiefly on the admirable and lovable
     human character which is revealed in them. They were written
     in Greek, and were probably jotted down at odd moments under
     the most various circumstances. Tradition says that they were
     intended for the guidance of his son.


_BOOK I_


The example of my grandfather Verus taught me to be candid and to
control my temper. By the memory of my father's character I learned to
be modest and manly. My mother taught me regard for religion, to be
generous and open-handed, and neither to do an ill turn to anyone nor
even to think of it. She bred me also to a plain and inexpensive way of
living. I owe it to my grandfather that I had not a public education,
but had good masters at home. From my tutor I learned not to identify
myself with popular sporting interests, but to work hard, endure
fatigue, and not to meddle with other people's affairs. Diognetus taught
me to bear freedom and plain dealing in others, and gave me a taste for
philosophy. Rusticus first set me to improve my character, and prevented
me from running after the vanity of the Sophists, and from concerning
myself with rhetorical and poetic conceits, or with the affectations of
a dandy. He taught me to read an author carefully, and gave me a copy of
Epictetus. Apollonius showed me how to give my mind its due freedom, to
disregard everything that was not true and reasonable, and to maintain
an equable temper under the most trying circumstances. Sextus taught me
good humour, to be obliging, and to bear with the ignorant and
thoughtless. From Maximus I learned to command myself, and to put
through business efficiently, without drudging or complaint. From my
adoptive father I learned a smooth and inoffensive temper, and a
greatness proof against vanity and the impressions of pomp and power; I
learned that it was the part of a prince to check flattery, to have his
exchequer well furnished, to be frugal in his expenses, not to worship
the gods to superstition, but to be reserved, vigilant and well poised.

I thank the gods that my grandfathers, parents, sister, preceptors,
relatives, friends and domestics were almost all persons of probity, and
that I never happened to disoblige any of them. By the goodness of the
gods I was not provoked to expose my infirmities. I owe it to them also
that my wife is so deferential, affectionate and frugal; and that when I
had a mind to look into philosophy I did not spend too much time in
reading or logic-chopping. All these points could never have been
guarded without a protection from above.


_BOOK II_


Put yourself in mind, every morning, that before night you will meet
with some meddlesome, ungrateful and abusive fellow, with some envious
or unsociable churl. Remember that their perversity proceeds from
ignorance of good and evil; and that since it has fallen to my share to
understand the natural beauty of a good action and the deformity of an
ill one; since I am satisfied that the disobliging person is of kin to
me, our minds being both extracted from the Deity; since no man can do
me a real injury because no man can force me to misbehave myself; I
cannot therefore hate or be angry with one of my own nature and family.
For we are all made for mutual assistance, no less than the parts of the
body are for the service of the whole; whence it follows that clashing
and opposition are utterly unnatural. This being of mine consists of
body, breath, and that part which governs. Put away your books and face
the matter itself. As for your body, value it no more than if you were
just expiring; it is nothing but a little blood and bones. Your breath
is but a little air pumped in and out. But the third part is your mind.
Here make a stand. Consider that you are an old man, and do not let this
noble part of you languish in slavery any longer. Let it not be
overborne with selfish passions; let it not quarrel with fate, or be
uneasy at the present, or afraid of the future. Providence shines
clearly through the work of the gods. Let these reflections satisfy you,
and make them your rule to live by. As for books, cease to be eager for
them, that you may die in good humour, heartily thanking the gods for
what you have had.

Remember that you are a man and a Roman, and let your actions be done
with dignity, gravity, humanity, freedom and justice; let every action
be done as though it were your last. Have neither insincerity nor
self-love. Man has to gain but few points in order to live a happy and
godlike life. And what, after all, is there to be afraid of in death? If
the gods exist, you can suffer no harm; and if they do not exist, or
take no care of us mortals, a world without gods or Providence is not
worth a man's while to live in. But the being of the gods, and their
concern in human affairs, is beyond dispute; and they have put it in
every man's power not to fall into any calamity properly so called.
Living and dying, honour and infamy, pleasure and pain, riches and
poverty--all these are common to the virtuous and the depraved, and are
therefore intrinsically neither good nor evil. We live but for a moment;
our being is in a perpetual flux, our faculties are dim, our bodies tend
ever to corruption; the soul is an eddy, fortune is not to be guessed
at, and posthumous fame is oblivion. To what, then, may we trust? Why,
to nothing but philosophy. This is, to keep the interior divinity from
injury and disgrace, and superior to pleasure and pain, and to acquiesce
in one's appointed lot.


_BOOK III_


Observe that the least things and effects in Nature are not without
charm and beauty, as the little cracks in the crust of a loaf, though
not intended by the baker, are agreeable and invite the appetite. Thus
figs, when they are ripest, open and gape; and olives, when they are
near decaying, are peculiarly attractive. The bending of an ear of corn,
the frown of a lion, the foam of a boar, and many other like things, if
you take them singly, are far from beautiful; but seen in their natural
relations are characteristic and effective. So if a man have but
inclination and thought to examine the product of the universe, he will
find that the most unpromising appearances have their own appropriate
charm.

Do not spend your thoughts upon other people, nor pry into the talk,
fancies and projects of another, nor guess at what he is about, or why
he is doing it. Think upon nothing but what you could willingly tell
about, so that if your soul were laid open there would appear nothing
but what was sincere, good-natured, and public-spirited. A man thus
qualified is a sort of priest and minister of the gods, and makes a
right use of the divinity within him. Be cheerful; depend not at all on
foreign supports, nor beg your happiness of another; don't throw away
your legs to stand upon crutches.

If, in the whole compass of human life, you find anything preferable to
justice and truth, temperance and fortitude, or to a mind self-satisfied
with its own rational conduct and entirely resigned to fate, then turn
to it as to your supreme happiness. But if there be nothing more
valuable than the divinity within you, if all things are trifles in
comparison with this, then don't divide your allegiance. Let your choice
run all one way, and be resolute for that which is best. As for other
speculations, throw them once for all out of your hand.


_BOOK IV_


It is the custom of people to go to unfrequented places and to the
seashore and to the hills for retirement; and you yourself have often
wished this solitude. But, after all, this is only a vulgar fancy, for
it is in your power to withdraw into yourself whenever you have a mind
to it. One's own heart is a place the most free from crowd and noise in
the world if only one's thoughts are serene and the mind well ordered.
Make, therefore, frequent use of this retirement, therein to refresh
your virtue. And to this end be always provided with a few short,
uncontested notions, to keep your understanding true. Do not forget to
retire to this solitude of yours; let there be no straining or
struggling in the matter, but move at ease.

If understanding be common to us all, then reason, its cause, must be
common, too. And so also must the reason which governs conduct by
commands and prohibitions be common to us all. Mankind is therefore
under one common law, and so are fellow-citizens; and the whole world is
but one commonwealth, for there is no other society in which mankind can
be incorporated.

Do not suppose that you are hurt, and your complaint will cease.

If a man affronts you, do not defer to his opinion, or think just as he
would have you do. No; look upon things as reality presents them. When
incense is thrown upon the altar, one grain usually falls before
another; but it matters not.

Adhere to the principles of wisdom, and those who now take you for a
monkey or a beast will make a god of you in a week.

A thing is neither better nor worse for being praised. Do virtues stand
in need of a good word, or are they the worse for a bad one? An emerald
will shine none the less though its worth be not spoken of.

Whatever is agreeable to You, O Universe, is so to me, too. Your
operations are never mistimed. Whatever Your seasons bring is fruit for
me, O Nature. From You all things proceed, subsist in You, and return to
You. The poet said, "Dear City of Cecrops"; shall we not say, "Dear City
of God"?

The greater part of what we say and do is unnecessary; and if this were
only retrenched we should have more leisure and less disturbance. This
applies to our thoughts also, for impertinence of thought leads to
unnecessary action.

Mankind are poor, transitory things: one day in life, and the next
turned to mummy or ashes. Therefore manage this minute wisely, and part
with it cheerfully; and like a ripe fruit, when you drop, make your
acknowledgments to the tree that bore you.


_BOOK V_


When you feel unwilling to rise early in the morning, make this short
speech to yourself: "I am getting up now to do the business of a man;
and am I out of humour for going about that I was made for, and for the
sake of which I was sent into the world? Was I then designed for nothing
but to doze beneath the counterpane?" Surely action is the end of your
being. Look upon the plants and birds, the ants, spiders and bees, and
you will see that they are all exerting their nature, and busy in their
station. Shall not a man act like a man?

Be not ashamed of any action which is in accordance with Nature, and
never be misled by the fear of censure or reproach. Where honesty
prompts you to say or do anything, let not the opinion of others hold
you back. Go forward by the straight path, pursuing your own and the
common interest.

Some men, when they do you a kindness, ask for the payment of gratitude;
others, more modest, remember the favour and look upon you as their
debtor. But there are yet other benefactors who forget their good deeds;
and these are like the vine, which is satisfied by being fruitful in its
kind, and bears a bunch of grapes without expecting any thanks for it. A
truly kind man never talks of a good turn that he has done, but does
another as soon as he can, just like a vine that bears again the next
season.

We commonly say that Aesculapius has prescribed riding for one patient,
walking for another, a cold bath for a third. In the same way we may say
that the nature of the Universe has ordered this or that person a
disease, loss of limbs or estate, or some such other calamity. For as,
in the first case, the word "prescribed" means a direction for the
health of the patient, so, in the latter, it means an application
suitable for his constitution and destiny.

Be not uneasy, discouraged or out of humour, because practice falls
short of precept in some particulars. If you happen to be vanquished,
come on again, and be glad if most of what you do is worthy of a man.

We ought to live with the gods. This is done by being contented with the
appointments of Providence, and by obeying the orders of that divinity
which is God's deputy; and this divine authority is no more nor less
than that soul and reason which every man carries within him.


_BOOK VI_


The best way of revenge is not to imitate the injury. Be always doing
something serviceable to mankind; and let this constant generosity be
your only pleasure, not forgetting a due regard to God.

The world is either an aggregation of atoms, or it is a unity ruled by
Law and Providence. If the first, what should I stay for, where Nature
is a chaos and things are blindly jumbled together? But if there is a
Providence, then I adore the great Governor of the world, and am at ease
and cheerful in the prospect of protection.

Suppose you had a stepmother and a mother at the same time; though you
would pay regard to the first, your converse would be principally with
the latter. Let the court and philosophy represent these two relations
to me.

If an antagonist in the circus tears our flesh with his nails, or tilts
against us with his head, we do not cry out foul play, nor are we
offended, nor do we suspect him afterwards as a dangerous person. Let us
act thus in the other instances of life. When we receive a blow, let us
think that we are but at a trial of skill, and depart without malice or
ill-will.

It is enough to do my duty; as for other things, I will not be disturbed
about them.

The vast continents of Europe and of Asia are but corners of the
creation; the ocean is but a drop, and Mount Athos but a grain in
respect of the universe; and the present instant of time is but a point
to the extent of eternity.

When you have a mind to divert your fancy, try to consider the good
qualities of your acquaintance--such as the enterprising vigour of this
man, the modesty of another, the liberality of a third, and so on. Let
this practice be always at hand.


_BOOK VII_


What is wickedness? It is nothing new. When you are in danger of being
shocked, consider that the sight is nothing but what you have frequently
seen already. All ages and histories, towns and families, are full of
the same stories; there is nothing new to be met with, but all things
are common and quickly over.

Nature works up the matter of the universe like wax; now it is a horse;
soon afterwards you will find it melted down and run into the figure of
a tree; then it is a man; and so on. Only for a brief time is it fixed
in any species.

Antisthenes said: "It is the fate of princes to be ill spoken of for
their good deeds."

Consider the course of the stars as if you were driving through the sky
and kept them company. Such contemplations as these scour off the rust
contracted by conversing here below.

Rational creatures are designed for the advantage of each other. A
sociable temper is that for which human nature was principally intended.

It is a saying of Plato's that no one misses the truth by his own
goodwill. The same may be said of honesty, sobriety, good nature, and
the like. Remember this, for it will help to sweeten your temper.

Though the gods are immortal, and have had their patience tried through
so many ages, yet they not only bear with a wicked world, but even
provide liberally for it. And are you tired with evil men already,
though you are one of those unhappy mortals yourself?


_BOOK VIII_


Every man has three relations to acquit himself in: his body is one, God
is another, and his neighbours are the third. Have you seen a hand or a
foot cut off and removed from the body? Just such a thing is the man who
is discontented with destiny or cuts himself off by selfishness from the
interest of mankind. But here is the fortunate aspect of the case--it
lies in his power to set the limb on again. Consider the peculiar bounty
of God to man in this privilege: He has set him above the necessity of
breaking off from Nature and Providence at all; but supposing this
misfortune to have occurred, it is in man's power to rejoin the body,
and grow together again, and recover the advantage of being the same
member that he was at first.

Do not take your whole life into your head at a time, nor burden
yourself with the weight of the future, nor form an image of all
probable misfortunes. Neither what is past nor what is to come need
afflict you, for you have only to deal with the present; and this is
strangely lessened if you take it singly and by itself. Chide your
fancy, therefore, if it offers to grow faint under so slender a trial.

Throw me into what climate or state you please, for all that I will keep
my soul content. Is any misadventure big enough to ruffle my peace, or
to make my mind mean, craving and servile? What is there that can
justify such disorders?

Be not heavy in business, nor disturbed in conversation, nor rambling in
thought. Do not burden yourself with too much employment. Do men curse
you? This cannot prevent you from keeping a wise, temperate, and upright
mind. If a man standing by a lovely spring should rail at it, the water
is none the worse for his foul language; and if he throw in dirt it will
quickly disappear, and the fountain will be as wholesome as ever. How
are you to keep your springs always running, and never stagnate into a
pool? You must persevere in the virtues of freedom, sincerity,
moderation, and good nature.


_BOOK IX_


Do not drudge like a galley-slave, nor do business in a laborious
manner, as if you wish to be pitied or wondered at.

As virtue and vice consist in action, and not in the impressions of the
senses, so it is not what they feel, but what they do, which makes
mankind either happy or miserable.

This man prays that he may gain such a woman; but do you rather pray
that you may have no such inclination. Another invokes the gods to set
him free from some troublesome circumstance; but let it be your petition
that your mind may not be set upon such a wish. A third is devout in
order to prevent the loss of his son; but I would have you pray rather
against the fear of losing him. Let this be the rule for your devotions,
and watch the event.


_BOOK X_


O my soul, are you ever to be rightly good, sincere, and uniform, and
made more visible to yourself than the body that hangs about you? Are
you ever likely to relish good nature and general kindness as you ought?
Will you ever be fully satisfied, rise above wanting and wishing, and
never desire to obtain your pleasure out of anything foreign, either
living or inanimate? Are you ever likely to be so happily qualified as
to converse with the gods and men in such a manner as neither to
complain of them nor to be condemned by them?

Put it out of the power of all men to give you a bad name, and if anyone
reports you not to be an honest or a good man let your practice give him
the lie. This is quite feasible; for who can hinder you from being just
and sincere?

There is no one so happy in his family and friends but that some of
them, when they see him going, will rejoice at a good riddance. Let him
be a person of never so much probity and prudence, yet someone will say
at his grave: "Well, our man of order and gravity is gone; we shall be
no more troubled with his discipline." This is the best treatment a good
man must expect.


_BOOK XI_


What a brave soul it is that is always ready to depart from the body,
and is unconcerned as to whether she will be extinguished, scattered, or
removed! But she must be prepared upon reasonable grounds, and not out
of mere obstinacy like the Christians; her fortitude must have nothing
of noise or of tragic ostentation, but must be grave and seemly.

How fulsome and hollow does that man seem who cries: "I'm resolved to
deal sincerely with you!" Hark you, friend, what need of all this
flourish? Let your actions speak. Your face ought to vouch for you. I
would have virtue look out of the eye no less apparently than love does.
A man of integrity and good nature can never be concealed, for his
character is wrought into his countenance.

Gentleness and good humour are invincible, provided they are of the
right stamp and without hypocrisy. This is the way to disarm the most
outrageous person--to continue kind and unmoved under ill usage, and to
strike in at the right opportunity with advice. But let all be done out
of mere love and kindness.


_BOOK XII_


I have often wondered how it is that everyone should love himself best,
and yet value his neighbour's opinion of him more than his own. If any
man should be ordered to turn his inside outwards, and publish every
thought and fancy as fast as they come into his head, he would not
submit to so much as a day of this discipline. Thus it is that we dread
our neighbour's judgment more than our own.

What a mighty privilege man is born to, since it is in his power not to
do anything but what God Almighty approves, and to be satisfied with all
the distributions of Providence!

Reflect upon those who have made the most glorious figure or have met
with the greatest misfortunes. Where are they all now? They are vanished
like a little smoke. The prize is insignificant, and the play not worth
the candle. It is much more becoming to a philosopher to stand clear of
affectation, to be honest and moderate upon all occasions, and to follow
cheerfully wherever the gods lead on, remembering that nothing is more
scandalous than a man who is proud of his humility.

Listen, friend! You have been a burgher of this great city. What matter
though you have lived in it fewer years or more? If you have kept the
laws of the corporation, the length or shortness of the time makes no
difference. Where is the hardship, then, if Nature, that planted you
here, orders your removal? You cannot say you are sent off by an unjust
tyrant No! You quit the stage as fairly as a player does who has his
discharge from the master of the revels. "But I have only gone through
three acts, and not held out to the end of the fifth!" True; but in life
three acts may complete the play. He is the only judge of completeness
who first ordered your entrance and now your exit; you are accountable
for neither the one nor the other. Retire therefore, in serenity, as He
who dismisses you is serene.

       *       *       *       *       *



FRANCIS BACON


THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING


     Francis Bacon, English philosopher and Chancellor, was born on
     January 22, 1561, the son of Lord Keeper Bacon, was sent to
     Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1573, and entered Gray's Inn in
     1576. He had already become profoundly dissatisfied at
     Cambridge with the Aristotelian philosophy, and the conception
     of a humble and methodical study of Nature had early become
     the dominant passion of his life. Bacon became a member of
     parliament in 1584, and nine years later distinguished himself
     by coming forward as the champion of the privileges of the
     House of Commons against the Lords. The "Essays" were
     published in 1597. Bacon was knighted in 1603, on the
     accession of James I. In October, 1605, he published the
     "Advancement of Learning," a work designed to interest the
     king in the new philosophy, of which book we here give a
     summary. This review of the existing state of knowledge was
     intended to be made, later, into the first part of the
     "Instauratio Magna" under the title of "Partitiones
     Scientiarum." For this purpose Bacon was constantly revising
     it, and eventually he had it translated into Latin, and it was
     so published, greatly enlarged, in 1623, under the title of
     "De Dignitate et Augmentis Scientiarum." The summit of his
     career was reached in 1621, when he became Viscount St.
     Albans. His fall, on a charge of corruptions in the Court of
     Chancery, took place in the following March, and from this
     period until his death, on April 9, 1626, he devoted himself
     to his philosophical and literary works.


_First Book_


Let us weigh the dignity of knowledge in the balance with other things.
In its archetype it is the Divine wisdom, or sapience, manifested in the
creation. In the celestial hierarchy the supposed Dionysius of Athens
places the angels of knowledge and illumination before those of office
and domination. Then, the first material form that was created was
light, which corresponds in corporal things to knowledge in incorporai.
The day wherein God contemplated His own works was blessed above the
days wherein He accomplished them. Man's first employment in Paradise
consisted of the two chief parts of knowledge, the view of creatures,
and the imposition of names. In the age before the Flood, Scripture
honours the names of the inventors of music and of works in metal. Moses
was accomplished in all the learning of the Egyptians. The book of Job
is pregnant with natural philosophy. In Solomon, the gift of wisdom and
learning is preferred before all other earthly and temporal felicity.

Our Saviour first showed His power to subdue ignorance by His conference
with the doctors, before He showed His power to subdue Nature by
miracles; and the coming of the Holy Spirit was chiefly figured in the
gift of tongues, which are the vehicles of knowledge. St. Paul, most
learned of the apostles, had his pen most used in the New Testament.
Many of the ancient fathers of the Church were excellently read in all
the learning of the heathen; and that heathen learning was preserved,
amid Scythian and Saracen invasions, in the sacred bosom of the Church.
And in our own day, when God has called the Roman Church to account for
degenerate manners and obnoxious doctrines. He has also ordained a
renovation of all other knowledges; and, on the other side, the Jesuits,
by quickening the state of learning, have done notable service to the
Roman See. Wherefore two principal services are performed to religion by
human learning: first, the contemplation of God's works is an effectual
inducement to the exaltation of His glory; and, secondly, true learning
is a singular preservative against unbelief and error.

To pass now to human proofs of the dignity of learning, we find that
among the heathen the inventors of new arts, such as Ceres, Bacchus, and
Apollo, were consecrated among the gods themselves by apotheosis. The
fable of Orpheus, wherein quarrelsome beasts stood sociably listening to
the harp, aptly described the nature of men among whom peace is
maintained so long as they give ear to precepts, laws, and religion. It
has been said that people would then be happy, when kings were
philosophers, or philosophers kings; and history shows that the best
times have ever been under learned princes.

As for the services of knowledge to private virtue, it takes away all
levity, temerity, and insolence by copious suggestion of all doubts and
difficulties, and acquainting the mind to balance reasons on both sides.
It takes away vain admiration of anything, which is the root of all
weakness. No man can marvel at the play of puppets that goes behind the
curtain. And certainly, if a man meditate much upon the universal frame
of Nature, the earth with men upon it (the divineness of souls except)
will not seem much other than an ant-hill, where some ants carry corn,
and some carry their young, and some go empty, and all to and fro a
little heap of dust. But especially learning disposes the mind to be
capable of growth and reformation. For the unlearned man knows not what
it is to descend into himself or to call himself to account, nor the
pleasure of feeling himself each day a better man than he was the day
before; he is like an ill mower, that mows on still and never whets his
scythe. Knowledge crowns man's nature with power. It even gives fortune
to particular persons; and it is hard to say whether arms or learning
have advanced greater numbers. As for the pleasure and delight thereof,
in knowledge there is no satiety. "It is a pleasure incomparable," says
Lucretius, "for the mind of man to be settled, landed, and fortified in
the certainty of truth; and from thence to descry the errors and
perturbations of other men."

Lastly, by learning man excels man in that wherein man excels beasts.
The great dignity of knowledge lies in immortality or continuance, and
the monuments of learning are more durable than the monuments of power.
Have not the verses of Homer continued twenty-five hundred years or
more, without the loss of a syllable or letter, during which time
infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities, have been decayed and
demolished?

If the invention of the ship was thought so noble, which carries riches
and commodities from place to place, and consociates the most remote
regions in participation of their fruits, how much more are letters to
be magnified? Popular and mistaken judgments will continue as they have
ever been, but so will that also continue whereupon learning has ever
relied, and which fails not.

"Wisdom is justified of her children."


_SECOND BOOK_


The parts of human learning have reference to the three parts of man's
understanding--history to his memory, poetry to his imagination, and
philosophy to his reason. Divine learning receives the same
distribution, so that theology consisteth of history of the Church; of
parables, which are divine poetry; and of holy doctrine or precept. For
prophecy is but divine history, in which the narrative is before the
fact.

History is "natural," "civil," "ecclesiastical," and "literary ";
whereof the first three are extant, but the fourth is deficient. A true
history of learning throughout the ages is wanting. History of Nature is
of three sorts--of Nature in course, of Nature erring or varying, and of
Nature altered or worked; that is, history of creatures, history of
marvels, and history of arts. The first of these is extant in good
perfection; the two others are handled so weakly that I note them as
deficient. The history of arts is of great use towards natural
philosophy such as shall be operative to the benefit of man's life.
Civil history is of three kinds: "memorials," "perfect histories," and
"antiquities," comparable to unfinished, perfect and defaced pictures.
Just or perfect history represents a time, a person, or an action. The
first we call "chronicles"; the second, "lives"; and the third,
"narrations," or "relations."

Of modern histories the greater part are beneath mediocrity. Annals and
journals are a kind of history not to be forgotten; and there is also
ruminated history, wherein political discourse and observations are
mingled with the history of the events themselves. The history of
cosmography is compounded of natural history, civil history, and
mathematics. Ecclesiastical history receives the same divisions with
civil history, but may further be divided into history of the Church,
history of prophecy, and history of Providence. The first of these is
not deficient, only I would that the sincerity of it were proportionate
to its mass and quantity. The history of prophecy, sorting every
prophecy with the event fulfilling the same, is deficient; but the
history of Providence, and the notable examples of God's judgments and
deliverances have passed through the labour of many. Orations, letters,
and brief sayings, or apophthegms, are appendices to history. Thus much
concerning history, which answers to memory.

Poetry refers to the imagination. In respect of its words it is but a
character of style, but in respect of its matter it is nothing else but
feigned history, which may as well be in prose as in verse. The use of
this feigned history is to give some shadow of satisfaction to the mind
of man in those points wherein the nature of things denies it; poetry
serves magnanimity, morality, and delectation. It is divided into
narrative, representative, and allusive or parabolical poetry. In poetry
I can report no deficience; it has sprung up and spread abroad more than
any other kind of learning.

In philosophy, the contemplations of man either penetrate unto God, or
are circumferred to Nature, or are reflected upon himself; whence arise
three knowledges--divine philosophy, natural philosophy, and human
philosophy or humanity. But it is good to erect one universal science,
_Philosophia Prima,_ "primitive" or "summary philosophy," before we come
where the ways part and divide; and this universal philosophy is a
receptacle for all such profitable observations and axioms as do not
fall within the compass of any of the special parts of philosophy or
sciences, but are common and of a higher stage. Divine philosophy, or
natural theology, is that knowledge concerning God which may be obtained
by the contemplation of His creatures; and in this I note an excess
rather than a deficience, because of the extreme prejudice which both
religion and philosophy have received by being mixed together, making an
heretical religion and a fabulous philosophy.

Of natural philosophy there are two parts, the inquisition of causes and
the production of effects; speculative and operative; natural science
and natural prudence. Natural science is divided into physic and
metaphysic. But since I have already defined a summary philosophy, and,
again, a natural theology, both of which are commonly confounded with
metaphysic, what is there remaining for metaphysic? This, that physic
inquires concerning the material and efficient causes, but metaphysic
handles the formal and final causes. So physic is in a middle term
between natural history and metaphysic; for natural history describes
the variety of things, physic the variable or respective causes, and
metaphysic the fixed and constant causes. Of metaphysic I find that it
is partly omitted and partly misplaced. In mathematics, which I place as
a part of metaphysic, I can report no deficience. But natural prudence,
or the operative part of natural philosophy, is very deficient. It were
desirable that there should be a calendar or inventory made of all the
inventions whereof man is possessed, with a note of useful things not
yet invented. A calendar, also, of doubts, and another of popular
errors, are to be desired.

We come now to the knowledge of ourselves--that is, to human philosophy
or humanity. First, a general study of human nature will have regard to
the sympathies and concordances between mind and body. Then, since the
good of man's body is of four kinds--health, beauty, strength, and
pleasure--the knowledge of the body is also of four kinds--medicine,
decoration or cosmetic, athletic, and the art voluptuary. Medicine has
been more professed than laboured, and more laboured than advanced, the
labour having been rather in circle than in progression.

As for human knowledge concerning the mind, it has two parts, one
inquiring of the substance or nature of the soul, and the other of its
faculties or functions. I believe that the first of these may be more
soundly inquired than it has been, yet I hold that in the end it must be
bounded by religion. It has two appendices, concerning divination and
fascination; these have rather vapoured forth fables than kindled truth.
The knowledge respecting the faculties of the mind is of two kinds, the
one respecting understanding and reason, and the other respecting will,
appetite, and affection, the imagination being active in both provinces.
The intellectual arts are four--inquiry or invention, examination or
judgment, custody or memory, and elocution or tradition; and these are
severally divided into various sciences and arts. The knowledge of the
appetite and will, or moral philosophy, leading to the culture and
regiment of the mind, is very deficient.

Civil knowledge has three parts--conversation, negotiation, and
government--since man seeks in society comfort, use, and protection. The
first of these is well laboured, the second and third are deficient.
Thus we conclude human philosophy, and turn to the sacred and inspired
divinity, the port of all men's labours and peregrinations.

Sacred theology, or divinity, is grounded only upon the word and oracle
of God, and not upon the light of Nature. Herein there has not been
sufficiently inquired the true limits and use of reason in spiritual
things. Exposition of Scriptures, on the other hand, is not deficient.
Divinity has four main branches--faith, manners, liturgy, and
government--in which I can find no ground vacant and unsown, so diligent
have men been, either in sowing of seed or tares.

       *       *       *       *       *



GEORGE BERKELEY


PRINCIPLES OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE


     George Berkeley, the metaphysician, was born on March 12,
     1685, near Thomastown, Kilkenny, the son of a collector of
     revenue. He entered Trinity College, Dublin, at the age of
     fifteen, and was admitted Fellow in 1707. In that year he
     published two mathematical essays; two years later, his
     "Theory of Vision," and in 1710 his "Principles of Human
     Knowledge." In 1713, in London, where he had published further
     philosophical papers, he formed the acquaintance of Steele,
     Swift, and Pope. After travels in Europe he became chaplain to
     the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland in 1721, and a few years after
     emigrated to Newport, Rhode Island, with a view to the
     establishment of a college in Bermuda for the education of
     Indians. This scheme fell through, because of the failure of
     the promised government support. Berkeley returned to London,
     and in 1734, by desire of Queen Caroline, was consecrated
     Bishop of Cloyne, in Ireland. Here he lived until 1752, but
     spent his last months in retirement at Oxford, where he died
     on January 14, 1753. Berkeley's "Principles of Human
     Knowledge" is one of the most eminent of that sequence of
     metaphysical systems which, beginning with Descartes,
     constitutes what is known as modern philosophy.


_I.--THE ANALYSIS OF PERCEPTION_


It is evident to anyone who takes a survey of the objects of human
knowledge that they are either ideas actually imprinted on the senses,
or else such as are perceived by attending to the passions and
operations of the mind; or, lastly, ideas formed by help of memory and
imagination, either compounding, dividing, or representing those
originally perceived in the aforesaid ways. By sight, touch, and other
senses, I receive various sensations; and any group of sensations,
frequently accompanying one another, come to be known as one thing. Thus
a certain colour, taste, smell, figure, and consistence, having been
observed to go together, are accounted one distinct thing--for instance,
an apple.

But, besides this endless variety of objects of knowledge, there is also
the "mind," "spirit," "soul," or "myself," which perceives them. Neither
our thoughts or imaginations, nor even the sensations which compose the
objects of perception, can exist otherwise than in a mind perceiving
them. It is impossible that objects should have any existence out of the
minds for which they exist; to conceive them as existing unperceived is
a mere abstraction. Whence it follows that there is no other substance
but spirit, or that which perceives.

Some, indeed, distinguish between "primary" and "secondary" qualities,
and hold that the former, such as extension, figure, motion, and
solidity, have some existence outside of the mind in an unthinking
substance which they call "matter." But extension, figure, and motion
are only ideas existing in the mind, and neither these ideas nor their
archetypes can exist in an unperceiving substance. The very notion of
what is called "matter" involves a contradiction within it. Not only
primary and secondary qualities alike, but also "great" and "small,"
"swift" and "slow," "extension," "number," and even "unity" itself,
being all of them purely relative, exist only in the mind. The
conception of "material substance" has no meaning but that of "being" in
general.

Even if we were to give to the materialists their "external bodies,"
they are by their own confession no nearer to knowledge how our ideas
are produced, since they own themselves unable to comprehend in what
manner body can act upon spirit, or how it is possible that it should
imprint any idea on the mind.

It is evident that the production of ideas in our minds can be no reason
why we should suppose corporeal substances to exist, since the rise of
those ideas is acknowledged to remain equally inexplicable with or
without the supposition of material existences. In short, if there were
external bodies, it is impossible that we should ever come to know it;
and if there were not, we should have the same reasons to think there
were, that we have now. We perceive a continual succession of ideas;
some are anew excited, others are changed or totally disappear. There
is, therefore, some cause of these ideas, whereon they depend, which
produces and changes them. This cause must be a substance; but it has
been shown that there is no corporeal or material substance. It remains,
therefore, that the cause of ideas is an incorporeal active substance or
spirit.

A spirit is one simple, undivided, active being; as it perceives ideas
it is called the "understanding," and as it produces or otherwise
operates about them, it is called the "will." Such is the nature of
spirit that it cannot be of itself perceived, but only by the effects
which it produceth.

The ideas of sense are more strong, lively, and distinct than those of
the imagination; they have likewise a steadiness, order, and coherence,
and are excited in a regular series, the admirable connection whereof
sufficiently testifies the wisdom and benevolence of its Author. The set
rules or established methods, wherein the mind that we depend on excites
in us the ideas of sense, are called the "laws of Nature."

These we learn by experience, and so obtain a sort of foresight which
enables us to regulate our actions for the benefit of life. In general,
to obtain such or such ends such or such means are conducive; and all
this we know, not by discovering any necessary connection between our
ideas, but only by the observation of the laws of Nature.

And yet this constant uniform working, which so evidently displays the
goodness and wisdom of that governing spirit whose will constitutes the
laws of Nature, is so far from leading our thoughts to Him that it
rather sends them wandering after second causes. For when we perceive
certain ideas of sense constantly followed by other ideas, and we know
that it is not of our own doing, we forthwith attribute power and agency
to the ideas themselves, and make one the cause of another, than which
nothing can be more absurd.


_II.--THE ROOTS OF SCEPTICISM_


Several difficult and obscure questions, on which abundance of
speculation hath been thrown away, are by our own principles entirely
banished from philosophy. "Whether corporeal substance can think,"
"whether matter be infinitely divisible," "how matter operates on
spirit"--these and the like inquiries have given infinfte amusement to
philosophers in all ages. But since they depend on the existence of
matter, they have no longer any place in our principles. It follows,
also, that human knowledge may be reduced to two heads--knowledge of
ideas, and knowledge of spirits. Our knowledge of the former hath been
much obscured and confounded, and we have been led into very dangerous
errors, by supposing a twofold existence of the objects of sense, the
one "intelligible," or in the mind, the other "real," and without the
mind; whereby unthinking things are thought to have a natural
subsistence of their own, distinct from being perceived by spirits.

This is the very root of scepticism; for so long as men thought that
real things subsisted without the mind, and that their knowledge was
only so far "real" as it was conformable to "real things," they could
not be certain that they had any real knowledge at all.

So long as we attribute a real existence to unthinking things, distinct
from their being perceived, it is not only impossible for us to know the
nature of any real unthinking being, but it is impossible for us even to
know that it exists. Hence it is that we see philosophers distrust their
senses, and doubt of the existence of heaven and earth, of everything
they see or feel. But all this doubtfulness, which so bewilders and
confounds the mind, vanishes if we annex a meaning to our words and do
not amuse ourselves with the terms "absolute," "external," "exist," and
such like, signifying we know not what. I can as well doubt of my own
being as of the being of those things which I perceive by sense; the
very existence of unthinking beings consists in their being perceived.

It were a mistake to think that what is here said derogates in the least
from the reality of things. The unthinking beings perceived by sense
exist in those unextended, indivisible substances, or spirits, which
act, think, and perceive them; whereas philosophers vulgarly hold that
the sensible qualities exist in an inert, extended, unperceiving
substance, which they call "matter," to which they attribute a natural
subsistence distinct from being perceived by any mind whatsoever, even
the eternal mind of the Creator.

As we have shown the doctrine of matter to have been the main support of
scepticism, so likewise upon the same foundation have been raised all
the impious schemes of atheism and irreligion. All these monstrous
systems have so visible and necessary a dependence on this supposed
material substance that, when this cornerstone is once removed, the
whole fabric cannot choose but fall to the ground.

On the same principle does not only fatalism but also idolatry depend in
all its varying forms. Did men but consider that the sun, moon, and
stars, and every other object of the senses, are only so many sensations
in their minds, which have no other existence but barely being
perceived, they would never fall down and worship their own ideas, but
rather address their homage to that Eternal Invisible Mind which
produces and sustains all things.

As in reading books, a wise man will choose to fix his thoughts on the
sense rather than lay them out on grammatical remarks; so, in perusing
the volume of Nature, it seems beneath the dignity of the mind to affect
an exactness in reducing each particular phenomenon to general rules, or
showing how it follows from them. We should propose to ourselves nobler
views, such as to recreate and exalt the mind, with a prospect of the
beauty, order, extent, and variety, of natural things; hence, by proper
inferences, to enlarge our notions of the grandeur, wisdom, and
beneficence of the Creator.

The reason that is assigned for our being thought ignorant of the nature
of spirits is our not having an idea of them. But it is manifestly
impossible that there should be any such idea. A spirit is the only
substance or support wherein the unthinking beings or ideas can exist;
but that this substance which supports or perceives ideas should itself
be an idea is absurd.

From the opinion that spirits are to be known after the manner of an
idea or sensation have arisen many heterodox tenets and much scepticism
about the nature of the soul. It is even probable that this opinion may
have produced a doubt in some whether they had any soul at all distinct
from their body, since they could not find that they had an idea of it.
But the spirit is a real thing, which is neither an idea nor like an
idea. What I am myself, that which I denote by the term "I," is what we
mean by soul or spiritual substance; and we know other spirits by means
of our own soul, which in that sense is an image or idea of them.

By the natural immortality of the soul we mean that it is not liable to
be either broken or dissolved by the ordinary laws of Nature or motion.
The soul itself is indivisible, incorporeal, unextended, and is
consequently incorruptible.


_III.--OUR KNOWLEDGE OF GOD_


Though there be some things which convince us that human agents are
concerned in producing them, yet it is evident to everyone that those
things which are called the works of Nature--that is, the far greater
part of the ideas or sensations perceived by us--are not produced by,
nor dependent on, the wills of men. There is, therefore, some other
spirit that causes them, since they cannot subsist themselves.

If we attentively consider the constant regularity, order, and
concatenation of natural things, the surprising magnificence, beauty,
and perfection of the larger, and the exquisite contrivance of the
smaller parts together with the exact harmony and correspondence of the
whole--I say, if we consider all these things, and at the same time
attend to the import of the attributes, one eternal, infinitely wise,
good, and perfect, we shall clearly perceive that they belong to the
aforesaid Spirit, who works all in all, and by whom all things consist.

Hence it is evident that God is known as certainly and immediately as
any other mind or spirit whatsoever, distinct from ourselves. We may
even assert that the existence of God is far more evidently perceived
than the existence of men, because the effects of Nature are infinitely
more numerous and considerable than those ascribed to human agents.
There is not any one mark that denotes a man, or effect produced by him,
which does not more strongly evince the being of that Spirit who is the
Author of Nature.

It seems to be a general pretence of the unthinking herd that they
cannot see God. Could we but see Him, say they, as we see a man, we
should believe that He is, and, believing, obey His commands. But we
need only open our eyes to see the sovereign Lord of all things with a
more full and clear view than we do any one of our fellow-creatures. We
do not see a man, if by "man" is meant that which lives, moves,
perceives, and thinks as we do; but only such a collection of ideas as
directs us to think there is a distinct principle of thought and motion
like to ourselves, accompanying and represented by it. And after the
same manner we see God.

Men are surrounded with such clear manifestations of Deity, yet are so
little affected by them that they seem, as it were, blinded with excess
of light.

       *       *       *       *       *



DESCARTES


DISCOURSE ON METHOD


     Rene Descartes was born March 31, 1596, at La Haye, in the
     ancient province of Touraine, France, of a noble family of
     Touraine; and was educated at the College of La Fleche by the
     Jesuits. The decisive crisis of his life arrived in 1619,
     while he was serving as a volunteer with Prince Maurice of
     Nassau, and the next nine years may be regarded as the period
     of his formation. The most fruitful years of his life were
     spent in Holland, whence he made occasional excursions into
     France, and perhaps paid a visit to England. In 1633 he
     finished his treatise on "The World; or on Light," an epitome
     of his "Physics," which, however, he deemed it wise, in view
     of Galileo's fate, to withhold from publication during his
     lifetime. Besides the "Discourse on Method" (1637), with the
     treatises on dioptrics, meteors, and geometry, his principal
     works were his "Meditations" addressed to the Deans of the
     Faculty of Theology in the University of Paris; the "Principia
     Philosophiae," and the "Traite des Passions de L'Ame," in
     which, he handled morals. Descartes died at Stockholm, whither
     he had been summoned by Queen Christina, on February 11, 1649.
     His work stands a landmark in the modern history of
     philosophic thought.


_I.--THE AIM OF THIS DISCOURSE_


Good sense or reason must be better distributed than anything else in
the world, for no man desires more of it than he already has. This shows
that reason is by nature equal in all men. If there is diversity of
opinion, this arises from the fact that we conduct our thought by
different ways, and consider not the same things. It does not suffice
that the understanding be good--it must be well applied.

My mind is no better than another's, but I have been lucky enough to
chance on certain ways, which have led me to a certain method by means
of which it seems to me that I may by degrees augment my knowledge to
the modest measure of my intellect and my length of days. I shall be
very glad to make plain in this discourse the paths I have followed, and
to picture my life so that all may judge of it, and by the setting forth
of their opinions may furnish me with yet other means of improvement.

It is my design not to teach the method which each man ought to follow
for the right guidance of his reason, but only to show in what manner I
have tried to conduct my own.

I had been nourished on letters from my infancy, but as soon as I had
finished the customary course of study, I found myself hampered by so
many doubts and errors that I seemed to have reaped no benefits, except
that I had observed more and more of my ignorance: Yet I was at one of
the most celebrated schools in Europe, and I was not held inferior to my
fellow-students, some of whom were destined to take the place of our
masters; nor did our age seem less fruitful of good wits than any which
had gone before. Though I did not cease to esteem the studies of the
schools, I began to think that I had given enough time to languages,
enough also to ancient books, their stories and their fables; for when a
man spends too much time in travelling abroad he becomes a stranger in
his own country; and so, when he is too curious concerning what went on
in past ages, he is apt to remain ignorant of what is taking place in
his own day. I set a high price on eloquence, and I was in love with
poetry; above all, I rejoiced in mathematics, but I knew nothing of its
true use.

I revered our theology, but, since the way to heaven lies open to the
ignorant no less than to the learned, and the revealed truths which lead
thither are beyond our intelligence, I did not dare to submit them to my
feeble reasonings.

In philosophy there is no truth which is not disputed, and which,
consequently, is not doubtful; and, as to the other sciences, they all
borrow their principles from philosophy.

Therefore, I entirely gave up the study of letters, and employed the
rest of my youth in travelling, being resolved to seek no other science
than that which I might find within myself, or in the Great Book of the
World.

Here the best lesson that I learned was not to believe too firmly
anything of which I had learnt merely by example and custom; and thus
little by little was delivered from many errors which are liable to
obscure the light of nature, and to diminish our capacity of hearing
reason. Finally, I resolved one day to study myself in the same way, and
in this it seems to me I succeeded much better than if I had never
departed from either my country or my books.


_II.--THE INTELLECTUAL CRISIS_


Being in Germany, on my way to rejoin the army after the coronation of
the Emperor [Ferdinand II.], I was lying at an inn where, in default of
other conversation, I was at liberty to entertain my own thoughts. Of
these, one of the first was that often there is less perfection in works
which are composite than in those which issue from a single hand. Such
was the case with buildings, cities, states; for a people which has made
its laws from time to time to meet particular occasions will enjoy a
less perfect polity than a people which from the beginning has observed
the constitution of a far-sighted legislator. This is very certain, that
the estate of true religion, which God alone has ordained, must be
incomparably better guided than any other. And again, I considered that
as, during our childhood, we had been governed by our appetites and our
tutors, which are often at variance, which neither of them perhaps
always gave us the best counsel, it is almost impossible that our
judgments should be so pure and so solid as they would have been if we
had had the perfect use of our reason from the time of our birth, and
had never been guided by anything else.

Hence, as regarded the opinions that I had received into my belief, I
thought that, as a private person may pull down his own house to build a
finer, so I could not do better than remove them therefrom in order to
replace them by sounder, or, after I should have adjusted them to the
level of reason, to establish the same once more.

When I was younger I had studied logic, analytical geometry, and
algebra. Of these, I found that logic served rather for explaining
things we already know; while of geometry and algebra, the former is so
tied to the consideration of figures that it cannot exercise the
understanding without wearying the imagination, and the latter is so
bound down to certain rules and ciphers that it has been made a confused
and obscure art which hampers the mind instead of a science which
cultivates it. And as a state is better governed which has but few laws,
and those laws strictly observed, I believed that I should find
sufficient four precepts which follow.

The first was never to accept anything as true when I did not recognise
it clearly to be so--that is to say, carefully to avoid precipitation
and prejudice, but to include in my opinions nothing beyond that which
should present itself so clearly and distinctly to my mind that I might
have no occasion to doubt it.

The second was to divide up the difficulties which I should examine into
as many parts as possible, and as should be required for their better
solution.

The third was to conduct my thoughts in order, by beginning with the
simplest objects and those most easy to know, so as to mount little by
little, by stages, to the most complex knowledge, even supposing an
order among things which did not naturally stand in an order of
antecedent and consequent.

And the last was to make everywhere enumerations so complete, and
surveys so wide, that I should be sure of omitting nothing.

Exact observation of these precepts gave me such facility in unravelling
the questions comprehended in geometrical analysis and in algebra, that
in two or three months not only did I find my way through many which I
had formerly accounted too hard for me, but, towards the end, I seemed
to be able to determine, in those which were new to me, by what means
and to what extent it was possible to resolve them. And so I promised
myself that I would apply my system with equal success to the
difficulties of other sciences; but since their principles must all be
borrowed from philosophy, in which I found no certain principles of its
own, I thought that before all else I must try to establish some
therein. By way of preparation (for I was then but twenty-three years
old) I must root up from my mind my previous bad opinion of it, and must
practise my method in order that I might be confirmed in it more and
more.


_III.--A RULE OF LIFE_


Meanwhile I must have a rule of life as a shelter while my new house was
in building, and this consisted of three or four maxims.

The first was to conform myself to the laws and customs of my country,
and to hold to the religion in which, by God's grace, I had been brought
up; guiding myself, for the rest, by the least extreme opinions of the
most intelligent. Among extremes I counted all promises by which a man
curtails anything of his liberty; for I should have deemed it a grave
fault against good sense if, because I approved something in a given
moment, I had bound myself to accept it as good for ever after.

My second maxim was to follow resolutely even doubtful opinions when
sure opinions were not available, just as the traveller, lost in some
forest, had better walk straight forward, though in a chance direction;
for thus he will arrive, if not precisely at the place where he desires
to be, at least probably at a better place than the middle of a forest.

My third maxim was to endeavour always to conquer myself rather than
fortune, and to change my desires rather than the order of the world,
and in general to bring myself to believe that there is nothing wholly
in our power except our thoughts. And I believe that herein lay the
secret of those philosophers who, in the days of old, could withdraw
from the domination of fortune, and, despite pain and poverty, challenge
the felicity of their gods.

Finally, after looking out upon the divers occupations of men, I
pondered that I could do no better than persevere in that which I had
chosen--so deep was my content in discovering every day by its means
truths which seemed to me important, yet were unknown to the world.

Having thus made myself sure of these maxims, and having set them apart
together with the verities of faith, I judged that for the rest of my
opinions I might set freely to work to divest myself of them. For nine
years, therefore, I went up and down the world a spectator rather than
an actor. These nine years slipped away before I had begun to seek for
the foundations of any philosophy more certain, nor perhaps should I
have dared to undertake the quest had it not been put about that I had
already succeeded.


_IV.--"I THINK, THEREFORE I AM"_


I had long since remarked that in matters of conduct it is necessary
sometimes to follow opinions known to be uncertain, as if they were not
subject to doubt; but, because now I was desirous to devote myself to
the search after truth, I considered that I must do just the contrary,
and reject as absolutely false everything concerning which I could
imagine the least doubt to exist.

Thus, because our senses sometimes deceive us I would suppose that
nothing is such as they make us to imagine it; and because I was as
likely to err as another in reasoning, I rejected as false all the
reasons which I had formerly accepted as demonstrative; and finally,
considering that all the thoughts we have when awake can come to us also
when we sleep without any of them being true, I resolved to feign that
everything which had ever entered into my mind was no more truth than
the illusion of my dreams.

But I observed that, while I was thus resolved to feign that everything
was false, I who thought must of necessity be somewhat; and remarking
this truth--"_I think, therefore I am_"--was so firm and so assured that
all the most extravagant suppositions of the sceptics were unable to
shake it, I judged that I could unhesitatingly accept it as the first
principle of the philosophy I was seeking. I could feign that there was
no world, I could not feign that I did not exist. And I judged that I
might take it as a general rule that the things which we conceive very
clearly and very distinctly are all true, and that the only difficulty
lies in the way of discerning which those things are that we conceive
distinctly.

After this, reflecting upon the fact that I doubted, and that
consequently my being was not quite perfected (for I saw that to _know_
is a greater perfection than to _doubt_), I bethought me to inquire
whence I had learned to think of something more perfect than myself; and
it was clear to me that this must come from some nature which was in
fact more perfect. For other things I could regard as dependencies of my
nature if they were real, and if they were not real they might proceed
from nothing--that is to say, they might exist in me by way of defect.
But it could not be the same with the idea of a being more perfect than
my own; for to derive it from nothing was manifestly impossible; and,
because it is no less repugnant that the more perfect should follow and
depend upon the less perfect than that something should come forth out
of nothing, I could not derive it from myself.

It remained, then, to conclude that it was put into me by a nature truly
more perfect than was I, and possessing in itself all the perfections of
what I could form an idea--in a word, by God. To which I added that,
since I knew some perfections which I did not possess, I was not the
only being who existed, but that there must of necessity be some other
being, more perfect, on whom I depended, and from whom I had acquired
all that I possessed; for if I had existed alone and independent of all
other, so that I had of myself all this little whereby I participated in
the Perfect Being, I should have been able to have in myself all those
other qualities which I knew myself to lack, and so to be infinite,
eternal, immutable, omniscient, almighty--in fine, to possess all the
perfections which I could observe in God.

Proposing to myself the geometer's subject matter, and then turning
again to examine my idea of a Perfect Being, I found that existence was
comprehended in that idea just as, in the idea of a triangle is
comprehended the notion that the sum of its angles is equal to two right
angles; and that consequently it is as certain that God, this Perfect
Being, is or exists, as any geometrical demonstration could be.

That there are many who persuade themselves that there is a difficulty
in knowing Him is due to the scholastic maxim that there is nothing in
the understanding which has not first been in the senses; where the
ideas of God and the soul have never been.

Than the existence of God all other things, even those which it seems to
a man extravagant to doubt, such as his having a body, are less certain.
Nor is there any reason sufficient to remove such doubt but such as
presupposes the existence of God. From His existence it follows that our
ideas or notions, being real things, and coming from God, cannot but be
true in so far as they are clear and distinct. In so far as they contain
falsity, they are confused and obscure, there is in them an element of
mere negation (_elles participent du neant_); that is to say, they are
thus confused in us because we ourselves are not all perfect. And it is
evident that falsity or imperfection can no more come forth from God
than can perfection proceed from nothingness. But, did we not know that
all which is in us of the real and the true comes from a perfect and
infinite being, however clear and distinct our ideas might be, we should
have no reason for assurance that they possessed the final
perfection--truth.

Reason instructs us that all our ideas must have some foundation of
truth, for it could not be that the All-Perfect and the All-True should
otherwise have put them into us; and because our reasonings are never so
evident or so complete when we sleep as when we wake, although sometimes
during sleep our imagination may be more vivid and positive, it also
instructs us that such truth as our thoughts have will assuredly be in
our waking thoughts rather than in our dreams.


_V.--WHY I DO NOT PUBLISH "THE WORLD"_


I have always remained firm in my resolve to assume no other principle
than that which I have used to demonstrate the existence of God and of
the soul, and to receive nothing which did not seem to me clearer and
more certain than the demonstrations of the philosophers had seemed
before; yet not only have I found means of satisfying myself with regard
to the principal difficulties which are usually treated of in
philosophy, but also I have remarked certain laws which God has so
established in nature, and of which He has implanted such notions in our
souls, that we cannot doubt that they are observed in all which happens
in the world.

The principal truths which flow from these I have tried to unfold in a
treatise ("On the World, or on Light"), which certain considerations
prevent me from publishing. This I concluded three years ago, and had
begun to revise it for the printer when I learned that certain persons
to whom I defer had disapproved an opinion on physics published a short
time before by a certain person [Galileo, condemned by the Roman
Inquisition in 1633], in which opinion I had noticed nothing prejudicial
to religion; and this made me fear that there might be some among my
opinions in which I was mistaken.

I now believe that I ought to continue to write all the things which I
judge of importance, but ought in no wise to consent to their
publication during my life. For my experience of the objections which
might be made forbids me to hope for any profit from them. I have tried
both friends and enemies, yet it has seldom happened that they have
offered any objection which I had not in some measure foreseen; so that
I have never, I may say, found a critic who did not seem to be either
less rigorous or less fair-minded than myself.

Whereupon I gladly take this opportunity to beg those who shall come
after us never to believe that the things which they are told come from
me unless I have divulged them myself; and I am in nowise astonished at
the extravagances attributed to those old philosophers whose writings
have not come down to us. They were the greatest minds of their time,
but have been ill-reported. Why, I am sure that the most devoted of
those who now follow Aristotle would esteem themselves happy if they had
as much knowledge of nature as he had, even on the condition that they
should never have more! They are like ivy, which never mounts higher
than the trees which support it, and which even comes down again after
it has attained their summit. So at least, it seems to me, do they who,
not content with knowing all that is explained by their author, would
find in him the solution also of many difficulties of which he says
nothing, and of which, perhaps, he never thought.

Yet their method of philosophising is very convenient for those who have
but middling minds, for the obscurity of the distinctions and principles
which they employ enables them to speak of all things as boldly as if
they had knowledge of them, and sustain all they have to say against the
most subtle and skilful without there being any means of convincing
them; wherein they seem to me like a blind man who, in order to fight on
equal terms with a man who has his sight, invites him into the depths of
a cavern. And I may say that it is to their interest that I should
abstain from publishing the principles of the philosophy which I employ,
for so simple and so evident are they that to publish them would be like
opening windows into their caverns and letting in the day. But if they
prefer acquaintance with a little truth, and desire to follow a plan
like mine, there is no need for me to say to them any more in this
discourse than I have already said.

For if they are capable of passing beyond what I have done, much rather
will they be able to discover for themselves whatever I believe myself
to have found out; besides which, the practice which they will acquire
in seeking out easy things and thence passing to others which are more
difficult, will stead them better than all my instructions.

But if some of the matters spoken about at the beginning of the
"Dioptrics" and the "Meteors" [published with the "Discourse on Method"]
should at first give offence because I have called them "suppositions,"
and have shown no desire to prove them, let the reader have patience to
read the whole attentively, and I have hope that he will be satisfied.

The time remaining to me I have resolved to employ in trying to acquire
some knowledge of nature, such that we may be able to draw from it more
certain rules for medicine than those which up to the present we
possess. And I hereby declare that I shall always hold myself more
obliged to those by whose favour I enjoy my leisure undisturbed than I
should be to any who should offer me the most esteemed employments in
the world.

       *       *       *       *       *



RALPH WALDO EMERSON


NATURE


     Ralph Waldo Emerson, the American writer and moralist, was
     born at Boston on May 25, 1803, of English stock and a family
     of preachers. He was educated at Harvard for the Unitarian
     ministry, and became a settled pastor in Boston before he was
     twenty-six. Three years later he resigned his charge owing to
     theological disagreements. In 1833 he visited Europe and
     England as a hero worshipper, his desire being to meet Landor,
     Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Carlyle. He saw them all, and
     formed a lifelong friendship with Carlyle. Returning to
     America, he settled at Concord, where he lived till his death,
     on April. 27, 1882. His public work took the form of lectures,
     of which his books are reproductions. In 1836 he published his
     first book, "Nature," anonymously. "Nature" was the germ essay
     from which all Emerson's later work sprang, a first expression
     of thoughts that were expanded and developed later. It was
     published in 1836, when its writer was thirty-three years of
     age, and known only as a preacher who had become a lecturer.
     Already Emerson had adopted the methods of a seer rather than
     those of the consecutive thinker. "Nature" was one of the
     first-written books of great writers that made a deep
     impression on the understanding few, but had only a few
     readers. It presaged the greatness to be; and indeed its
     poetical quality carries a charm, which Emerson sometimes
     failed to reproduce and never afterwards surpassed.


_I.--TO WHAT END IS NATURE?_


Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It
writes biographies, histories, and criticisms. The foregoing generations
beheld God face to face; we through their eyes. Why should not we also
have an original relation to the universe? Why should we grope among the
dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out
of its faded wardrobe? Let us interrogate the great apparition that
shines so peacefully around us. Let us inquire to what end is Nature.

Philosophically considered, the universe is composed of Nature and Soul.
Strictly speaking, therefore, all that is separate from us, all which
philosophy distinguishes as _not me_, that is both Nature and Art, all
other men and my own body, must be ranked under this name, Nature.
Nature, in the common sense, refers to essences unchanged by man: space,
the air, the river, the leaf. Art is applied to the mixture of his will
with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a statue, a picture. But
his operations, taken together, are so insignificant, a little chipping,
baking, patching, and washing, that in an impression so grand as that of
the world on the human mind they do not vary the result.

To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as
from society. But if a man would be alone let him look at the stars. The
rays that come from those heavenly bodies will separate between him and
what he touches. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent
with this design, to give man in the heavenly bodies the perpetual
presence of the sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how great they
are! If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how men
would believe and adore, and preserve for many generations the
remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night
come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their
admonishing smile.

Nature never wears a mean appearance. Neither does the wisest man extort
her secret, and lose his curiosity by finding out all her perfection.
When we speak of Nature in this manner we have a distinct but most
poetical sense in the mind. We mean the integrity of impression made by
manifold natural objects. The charming landscape which I saw this
morning is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller
owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none
owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has
but he whose eye can integrate all the parts--that is, the poet. This is
the best part of these men's farms, yet to this their warranty-deeds
give no title.


_II.--HER DELIGHT_


In the presence of Nature a wild delight runs through the man in spite
of real sorrow. Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and
season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change
corresponds to and authorises a different state of mind, from breathless
noon to grimmest midnight. Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at
twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any
occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect
exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the woods, too, a man
casts off his years as the snake his slough, and at what period soever
of life is always a child. Within these plantations of God a decorum and
sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not
how he should tire of them in a thousand years. Standing on the bare
ground, my head bathed in the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite
space, all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am
nothing; I see all; the currents of universal being circulate through
me; I am a part or particle of God. I am the lover of uncontained and
immortal beauty.

Yet it is certain that the power to produce this delight does not reside
in Nature, but in man, or in a harmony of both. It is necessary to use
these pleasures with great temperance. For Nature is not always tricked
in holiday attire, but the same scene which yesterday breathed perfume
and glittered as for the frolic of nymphs is overspread with melancholy
to-day. Nature always wears the colours of the spirit.

The misery of man appears like childish petulance when we explore the
steady and prodigal provision that has been made for his support and
delight on this green ball which floats him through the heavens. All the
parts incessantly work into each other's hands for the profit of man.
The wind sows the seed; the sun evaporates the sea; the wind blows the
vapour to the field; the ice on the other side of the planet condenses
the rain on this; the plant feeds the animal; and thus the endless
circulations of the divine charity nourish man.

The useful arts are reproductions or new combinations by the wit of man
of the same natural benefactors. The private poor man hath cities,
ships, canals, bridges, built for him. He goes to the post-office, and
the human race run on his errands; to the book-shop, and the human race
read and write all that happens for him; to the court-house, and nations
repair his wrongs.


_III.--HER LOVELINESS_


A nobler want of man is served by Nature, namely, the love of beauty.
Such is the constitution of all things, or such the plastic power of the
human eye, that the primary forms, as the sky, the mountain, the tree,
the animal, give us a delight in and for themselves, a pleasure arising
from art, line, colour, motion, and grouping. This seems partly owing to
the eye itself. The eye is the best of artists, as light is the first of
painters.

To the body and mind which have been cramped by noxious work or company
Nature is medicinal, and restores their tone. But in other hours Nature
satisfies by her loveliness and without any mixture of corporeal
benefit. I see the spectacle of morning from the hilltop over against my
house from daybreak to sunrise with emotion which an angel might share.
How does Nature deify us with a few and cheap elements. Give me health
and a day, and I will make the pomp of emperors ridiculous. The dawn is
my Assyria; the sunset and moonrise my Paphos, and unimaginable realms
of faerie; broad noon shall be my England of the senses and the
understanding; the night shall be my Germany of mystic philosophy and
dreams.

The inhabitants of cities suppose that the country landscape is pleasant
only half the year. To the attentive eye each moment of the year has its
own beauty, and in the same fields it beholds every hour a picture which
was never seen before, and which shall never be seen again.

Every rational creature has all Nature for his dowry and estate. He may
divest himself of it, he may creep into a corner and abdicate his
kingdom, as most men do, but he is entitled to the world by his
constitution. In proportion to the energy of his thought and will he
takes up the world into himself.


_IV.--HER GIFT OF LANGUAGE_


Language is another use which Nature subserves to man. Words are signs
of natural facts. The use of natural history is to give us aid in
supernatural history. Every word which is used to express a moral or
intellectual fact, if traced to its root, is found to be borrowed from
some material appearance. Right means straight; wrong means twisted;
transgression the crossing of a line. Most of the process by which this
transformation is made is hidden from us in the remote time when
language was framed; but the same tendency may be daily observed in
children.

It is not words only that are emblematic, it is things. Every appearance
in Nature corresponds to some state of mind, and that state of mind can
only be described by presenting that natural appearance as its picture.
An enraged man is a lion, a cunning man is a fox, a firm man is a rock,
a learned man is a torch. Visible distance behind and before us is
respectively an image of memory and hope.

Man is conscious of a universal soul within or behind his individual
life, wherein, as in a firmament, the natures of justice, truth, love,
freedom, arise and shine. This universal soul he calls reason: it is not
mine, or thine, or his, but we are its; we are its property and men. And
the blue sky in which the private earth is buried, the sky with its
eternal calm and full of everlasting orbs is the type of reason. That
which, intellectually considered, we call reason, considered in relation
to Nature we call spirit. Spirit is the creator. Spirit hath life in
itself, and man in all ages and countries embodies it in his language as
the Father.

As we go back in history language becomes more picturesque until its
infancy, when it is all poetry. When simplicity of character and the
sovereignty of ideas are broken up, new imagery ceases to be created and
old words are perverted to stand for things which are not; a paper
currency is employed when there is no bullion in the vaults.


_V.--HER MORAL DISCIPLINE_


In view of the significance of Nature we arrive at the fact that Nature
is a discipline. What tedious training, day after day, year after year,
never ending, to form the common sense; what continual reproduction of
annoyances, inconveniences, dilemmas; what rejoicing over us of little
men, what disputing of prices, what reckoning of interest--and all to
form the hand of the mind!

The exercise of will or the lesson of power is taught in every event.
Nature is thoroughly mediate. It is made to serve. It receives the
dominion of man as meekly as the ass on which the Saviour rode. It
offers all its kingdoms to man as the raw material which he may mould
into what is useful. And he is never weary of working it up. He forges
the subtle and delicate air into wise and melodious words, and gives
them wings as angels of persuasion and command. One after another his
victorious thought comes up with and reduces all things, until the world
becomes at last a realised will.

Every natural process is a version of a moral sentence. The moral law
lies at the centre of Nature and radiates to the circumference. What is
a farm but a mute gospel? The chaff and the wheat, weeds and plants,
blight, rain, insects, sun--it is a sacred emblem from the first furrow
of spring to the last stack which the snow of winter overtakes in the
fields. Who can guess how much firmness the sea-beaten rock has taught
the fisherman? How much tranquillity has been reflected to man from the
azure sky? How much industry and providence and affection we have caught
from the pantomime of brutes?

The unity of Nature meets us everywhere. Resemblances exist in things
wherein there is great superficial unlikeness. Thus architecture is
called "frozen music" by Goethe. "A Gothic church," said Coleridge, "is
petrified religion." The law of harmonic sounds reappears in the
harmonic colours. The granite is different in its laws only by the more
or less of heat from the river that wears it away. The river, as it
flows, resembles the air that flows over it; the air resembles the light
that traverses it with more subtle currents.

Each creature is only a modification of the other, the likeness in them
is more than the difference, and their radical law is one and the same.
This unity pervades thought also.


_VI.--IS NATURE REAL?_


A noble doubt suggests itself whether discipline be not the final cause
of the universe, and whether Nature outwardly exists. The frivolous make
themselves merry with the ideal theory as if its consequences were
burlesque, as if it affected the stability of Nature. It surely does
not. The wheels and springs of man are all set to the hypothesis of the
permanence of Nature.

But while we acquiesce entirely in the permanence of natural laws, the
question of the absolute existence of Nature still remains open. It is
the uniform effect of culture on the human mind to lead us to regard
Nature as a phenomenon, not a substance; to attribute necessary
existence to spirit.

Intellectual science fastens the attention upon immortal necessary
uncreated natures, that is, upon ideas; and in their presence we feel
that the outward circumstance is a dream and a shade. Whilst we wait in
this Olympus of the gods we think of Nature as an appendix to the soul.
Finally, religion and ethics, which may be fitly called the practice of
ideas, have an analogous effect. The first and last lesson of religion
is: "The things that are seen are temporal; the things that are unseen
are eternal."


_VII.--THE SPIRIT BEHIND NATURE_


The aspect of Nature is devout. Like the figure of Jesus, she stands
with bended head and hands folded on the breast. The happiest man is he
who learns from Nature the lesson of worship. Of that ineffable essence
we call spirit, he that thinks most will say least. We can foresee God
in the coarse, as it were, distant phenomena of matter; but when we try
to define and describe Himself, both language and thought desert us, and
we are as helpless as fools and savages. The noblest ministry of Nature
is to stand as the apparition of God. It is the organ through which the
universal spirit speaks to the individual, and strives to bring back the
individual to it.

I conclude this essay with some traditions of man and Nature which a
certain poet sang to me.

The foundations of man are not in matter, but in spirit. And the element
of spirit is eternity. To it, therefore, the longest series of events,
the oldest chronologies are young and recent. A man is a god in ruins.
When men are innocent, life shall be longer and shall pass into the
immortal as gently as we awake from dreams. Infancy is the perpetual
Messiah which comes into the arms of fallen men, and pleads with them to
return to paradise. The problem of restoring to the world the original
and eternal beauty is solved by the redemption of the soul. The ruin
that we see when we look at Nature is in our own eye. Man cannot be a
naturalist until he satisfies all the demands of the spirit. Love is as
much its demand as perception. When a faithful thinker shall kindle
science with the fire of the holiest affection, then will God go forth
anew into the creation.

Nature is not fixed, but fluid. Spirit alters, moulds, makes it. The
immobility, or bruteness, of Nature is the absence of spirit. Every
spirit builds itself a house, and beyond its house a world, and beyond
its world a heaven. What we are, that only can we see. All that Adam
had, all that Caesar could, you have and can do. Adam called his house
heaven and earth; Caesar called his house Rome; you, perhaps, call yours
a cobbler's trade, a hundred acres of ploughed land, or a scholar's
garret. Yet, line for line, and point for point, your dominion is as
great as theirs, though without fine names. Build, therefore, your own
world. As fast as you conform your life to the pure idea in your mind,
that will unfold its great proportions.

       *       *       *       *       *



EPICTETUS


DISCOURSES AND ENCHEIRIDION


     The Stoic philosopher Epictetus was born about 50 A.D., at
     Hierapolis, in Phrygia, at that time a Roman province of Asia
     Minor, and was at first a slave in Rome. On being freed he
     devoted himself to philosophy, and thereafter lived and taught
     at Nicopolis, in Epirus (then a portion of Macedonia,
     corresponding to Albania to-day), from about 90 A.D. to 138
     A.D. He left no works, but his utterances have been collected
     in four books of "Discourses" or "Dissertations" by his pupil
     and friend Arrian. In the "Encheiridion Epictete"--a "Handbook
     to Epictetus" compiled and condensed from the chaos of the
     almost verbatim "Discourses"--Arrian gives the most authentic
     account of the philosophy of the Greek and Roman Stoics, the
     sect founded by Zeno about 300 years before the Christian era,
     which flourished until the decline of Rome. Arrian himself was
     born about 90 A.D. at Nicomedia. He wrote in the style of
     Xenophon the "Anabasis of Alexander," a book on "Tactics," and
     several histories which have been lost. He is chiefly of note,
     however, as the Boswell of Epictetus. He died about 180 A.D.


_I.--OF THE WILL, AND OF GOD_


The reasoning faculty alone considers both itself and all other powers,
and judges of the appearance of things. And, as was fit, this most
excellent and superior faculty, the faculty of a right use of the
appearances of things, is that alone which the gods have placed in our
own power, while all the other matters they have placed not in our
power. Was it because they would not? I rather think that if they could,
they had granted us these, too; but they certainly could not. For,
placed upon earth, and confined to such a body and such companions, how
was it possible that we should not be hindered by things without us?

But what says Jupiter? "O Epictetus, if it were possible, I had made
this little body and possession of thine free, and not liable to
hindrance. But now do not mistake; it is not thine own, but only a finer
mixture of clay. Since, then, I could not give thee this, I have given
thee a certain portion of myself--this faculty of exerting the powers of
pursuit and avoidance, of desire and aversion, and, in a word, the use
of the appearances of things. Taking care of this point, and making what
is thy own to consist in this, thou wilt never be restrained, never be
hindered; thou wilt not groan, wilt not complain, wilt not flatter
anyone. How then! Do all these advantages seem small to thee? Heaven
forbid! Let them suffice thee, then, and thank the gods."

But now, when it is in our power to take care of one thing, and apply
ourselves to it, we choose rather to encumber ourselves with many--body,
property, brother, friend, child, slave--and thus we are burdened and
weighed down. When the weather happens not to be fair for sailing, we
sit screwing ourselves and perpetually looking out for the way of the
wind.

What then is to be done?

To make the best of what is in our power, and take the rest as it
naturally happens.

And how is that?

As it pleases God.

To a reasonable creature, that alone is unsupportable which is
unreasonable; everything reasonable may be supported. When Vespasian had
sent to forbid Priscus Helvidius going to the senate, he answered, "It
is in your power to prevent my continuing a senator, but while I am one
I must go."

"Well, then, at least be silent there."

"Do not ask my opinion, and I will be silent."

"But I must ask it."

"And I must speak what appears to me to be right."

"But if you do I will put you to death."

"Did I ever tell you that I was immortal? You will do your part, and I
mine; it is yours to kill, and mine to die intrepid; yours to banish me,
mine to depart untroubled."

What good, then, did Priscus do, who was but a single person? Why, what
good does the purple do to the garment? What but the being a shining
character in himself, and setting a good example to others? Another,
perhaps, if in such circumstances Caesar had forbidden his going to the
senate, would have said, "I am obliged to you for excusing me." But such
a one Caesar would not have forbidden, well knowing that he would either
sit like a statue, or, if he spoke, he would say what he knew to be
agreeable to Caesar.

Only consider at what price you sell your own will and choice, man--if
for nothing else, that you may not sell it for a trifle.

If a person could be persuaded, as he ought of this principle, that we
are all originally descended from God, and that He is the Father of gods
and men, I conceive he never would think meanly or degenerately
concerning himself. Suppose Caesar were to adopt you, there would be no
bearing your haughty looks. Will you not be elated on knowing yourself
to be the son of Jupiter, of God Himself? Yet, in fact, we are not
elated; but having two things in our composition, intimately united, a
body in common with the brutes, and reason and sentiment in common with
the gods, many of us incline to this unhappy and mortal kindred, and
only some few to the divine and happy one.

By means of this animal kindred some of us, deviating towards it, become
like wolves, faithless and insidious and mischievous; others like lions,
wild and savage and untamed; but most of us like foxes, wretches even
among brutes. For what else is a slanderous and ill-natured man than a
fox, or something still more wretched and mean?

To Triptolemus all men have raised temples and altars, because he gave
us a milder kind of food; but to Him who has discovered and communicated
to all the truth, the means not of living but of living well, who ever
raised an altar or built a statue?

If what philosophers say of the kindred between God and man be true,
what has anyone to do but, like Socrates, when he is asked what
countryman he is, never to say that he is a citizen of Athens, or of
Corinth, but of the world? Why may not he who has learned that from God
the seeds of being are descended, not only to my father or grandfather,
but to all things that are produced and born on the earth--and
especially to rational natures, as they alone are qualified to partake
of a communication with the Deity, being connected with Him by
reason--why may not such a one call himself a citizen of the world? Why
not a son of God? And why shall he fear anything that happens among men?
Shall kindred to Caesar, or any other of the great at Rome, enable a man
to live secure, above contempt, and void of fear; and shall not the
having God for our Maker and Father and Guardian free us from griefs and
terrors?


_II.--THE CITIZEN OF THE WORLD AND HIS HIGH CALLING_


You are a distinct portion of the essence of God, and contain a certain
part of Him in yourself. Why do not you consider whence you came? You
carry a god about with you, wretch, and know nothing of it. Do you
suppose I mean some god without you, of gold or silver? It is within
yourself you carry Him, and profane Him, without being sensible of it,
by impure thoughts and unclean actions. If even the image of God were
present, you would not dare to act as you do; when God Himself is within
you, and hears and sees all, are not you ashamed to think and act thus,
insensible of your own nature and hateful to God?

You are a citizen of the world, and a part of it; not a subservient, but
a principal part. You are capable of comprehending the divine economy
and of considering the connection of things. What, then, does the
character of a citizen promise? To hold no private interest, to
deliberate of nothing as a separate individual, but like the hand or the
foot, which, if they had reason, and comprehended the constitution of
nature, would never pursue, or desire, but with a reference to the
whole.

"Ah, when shall I see Athens and the citadel again?" Wretch, are not you
contented with what you see every day? Can you see anything better than
the sun, the moon, the stars, the whole earth, the sea? If, besides, you
comprehend Him who administers the whole, and carry Him about in
yourself, do you still long after pebbles and a fine rock?

Boldly make a desperate push, man, for prosperity, for freedom, for
magnanimity. Lift up your head at last as free from slavery. Dare to
look up to God, and say, "Make use of me for the future as Thou wilt. I
am of the same mind; I am equal with Thee. I refuse nothing which seems
good to Thee. Lead me whither Thou wilt. Clothe me in whatever dress
Thou wilt. Is it Thy will that I should be in a public or a private
condition, dwell here or be banished, be poor or rich? Under all these
circumstances I will make Thy defence to men. I will show what the
nature of everything is." No, rather sit alone in a warm place, and wait
till your nurse comes to feed you. If Hercules had sat loitering at
home, what would he have been? You are not Hercules, to extirpate the
evils of others. Extirpate your own, then. Expel grief, fear, desire,
envy, malevolence, avarice, effeminacy, intemperance, from your mind.

But these can be no otherwise expelled than by looking up to God alone
as your pattern; by attaching yourself to Him alone and being
consecrated to His commands. If you wish for anything else, you will,
with sighs and groans, follow what is stronger than you, always seeking
prosperity without, and never finding it. For you seek it where it is
not, and neglect to seek it where it is.


_III.--"HIS WILL IS MY WILL"_


Have I ever been restrained from what I willed? Or compelled against my
will? How is this possible? I have ranged my pursuits under the
direction of God. Is it His will that I should have a fever? It is my
will too. Is it His will that I should pursue anything? It is my will
too. Is it His will that I should desire? It is my will too. Is it His
will that I should obtain anything? It is mine too. Is it not His will?
It is not mine. Is it His will that I should be tortured? Then it is my
will to be tortured. Is it His will that I should die? Then it is my
will to die.

He has given me whatever depends upon choice. The things in my power He
has made incapable of hindrance or restraint. But how could He make a
body of clay incapable of hindrance? Therefore He hath subjected my
body, possessions, furniture, house, children, wife, to the revolution
of the universe. He who gave takes away. For whence had I these things
when I came into the world?

"But I would enjoy the feast still longer." So perhaps would the
spectators at Olympia see more combatants. But the solemnity is over. Go
away. Depart like a grateful and modest person; make room for others.

Do not you know that sickness and death must overtake us? At what
employment? The husbandman at his plough; the sailor on his voyage. At
what employment would you be taken? Indeed, at what employment ought you
to be taken? For if there is any better employment at which you can be
taken, follow that.

For my own part, I would be engaged in nothing but the care of my own
faculty of choice, how to render it undisturbed, unrestrained,
uncompelled, free. I would be found studying this, that I may be able to
say to God, "Have I transgressed Thy commands? Have I perverted the
powers, the senses, the preconceptions which Thou hast given me? Have I
ever accused Thee or censured Thy dispensations? I have been sick,
because it was Thy pleasure. I have been poor, with joy. I have not been
in power, because it was not Thy will, and power I have never desired.
Have I not always approached Thee cheerfully, prepared to execute Thy
commands? Is it Thy pleasure that I depart from this assembly? I depart.
I give Thee thanks that Thou hast thought me worthy to have a share in
it with Thee; to behold Thy works, and to join with Thee in
comprehending Thy administration." Let death overtake me while I am
thinking, writing, reading such things as these. Of things, some are in
our power, others not. In our power are opinion, pursuit, desire,
accession; in a word, whatever are our own actions. Not in our power are
body, property, reputation, command; in a word, whatever are not our own
actions.

Now, the things in our power are free, unrestrained, unhindered, while
those not in our power are weak, slavish, restrained, belonging to
others. Remember, then, that if you suppose these latter things free,
and what belongs to others your own, you will be hindered; you will
lament; you will be disturbed; you will find fault with both gods and
men. But if you regard that only as your own which is your own, and what
is others, as theirs, no one will ever compel you; no one will restrain
you; you will find fault with no one; you will accuse no one; you will
do nothing against your will; you will have no enemy and will suffer no
harm.

Aiming, therefore, at great things, remember that you must not allow
yourself to be carried out of your course, however slightly.

Study to be able to say to every hostile appearance, "You are but an
appearance, and not the thing you appear to be." Then examine it by your
rules, and first and chiefly by this: whether it concerns the things in
your own power or those which are not. And if it concerns anything not
in your own power, be prepared to say it is nothing to you.

With regard to whatever objects either delight the mind, or contribute
to use, or are loved with fondness, remember to tell yourself of what
nature they are, beginning from the most trifling things. If you are
fond of an earthen cup, remind yourself it is an earthen cup of which
you are fond; thus, if it be broken, you will not be disturbed. If you
kiss your child, or your wife, remember you kiss a being subject to the
accidents of humanity; thus you will not be disturbed if either die.

Men are disturbed, not by things, but by their own notions regarding
them.

Be not elated over excellences not your own. If a horse should be elated
and say, "I am handsome," it would be supportable. But when you are
elated and say, "I have a handsome horse," know that you are elated on
what is, in fact, only the good of the horse.

Require not things to happen as you wish, but wish them to happen as
they do happen. Then all will go well.

In every happening, inquire of your mind how to turn it to proper
account.

Never say of anything "I have lost it," but "I have restored it." Is
your child dead? It is restored. Is your wife dead? She is restored. Is
your estate taken away from you? Well, and is not that likewise
restored? "But he who took it away is a bad man." What is it to you by
whose hands He who gave it hath demanded it again? While He gives you to
possess it, take care of it, but as of something not your own, like a
passenger in an inn.


_IV.--OF TRANQUILLITY AND THE MEANS THERETO_


If you would improve, lay aside such reasonings as prevent tranquillity.
It is better to die with hunger, exempt from grief and fear, than to
live in affluence with perturbation. It is better your servant should be
bad than you unhappy. Is a little oil spilt? A little wine stolen? Say
to yourself, "This is the purchase paid for peace, for tranquillity, and
nothing is to be had for nothing." When you call your servant, consider
it possible he may not come at your call; or if he doth, that he may not
do what you would have him do. He is by no means of such importance that
it should be in his power to give you disturbance.

Be content to be thought foolish and stupid with regard to externals and
unessentials. Do not wish to be thought to know. And though you appear
to others to be somebody, distrust yourself. For be assured it is not
easy at once to preserve your faculty of choice in a state conformable
to nature, and to secure externals, since while you are careful of the
one you will neglect the other.

Behave in life as at an entertainment. Is anything brought round to you?
Put out your hand and take your share, with moderation. Doth it pass by
you? Do not stop it. Is it not yet come? Do not stretch forth your
desire towards it, but wait till it reaches you. Thus do with regard to
children, to a wife, to public posts, to riches, and you will be, some
time or other, a worthy partner of the feasts of the gods. And if you do
not so much as take the things set before you, but are able even to
despise them, then you will not only be a partner of the gods' feasts,
but of their empire.

Remember that you are an actor in a drama, of such a kind as the Author
pleases to make it. If short, of a short one; if long, of a long one. If
it be His pleasure you should act a poor man, a cripple, a governor, or
a private person, see that you act it naturally. For this is your
business, to act well the character assigned you; to choose it is
another's.

To me all the portents are lucky, if I will. For, whatever happens, it
is in my power to derive advantage from it.

Remember that not he who gives ill language or a blow affronts, but the
principle which represents these things as affronting. When, therefore,
anyone provokes you, be assured that it is your own opinion which
provokes you. Try in the first place not to be hurried away with the
appearance. For if you once gain time and respite you will more easily
command yourself.

Be assured that the essential property of piety towards the gods is to
form right opinions concerning them as existing and as governing the
universe with goodness and justice. And fix yourself in the resolution
to obey them, and yield to them, and willingly follow them in all
events, as produced by the most perfect understanding. For thus you will
never find fault with the gods, nor accuse them of neglecting you. And
it is not possible for this to be effected any other way than by
withdrawing yourself from things not in your own power and placing good
or evil in those only which are. For if you suppose any of the things
not in your own power to be either good or evil, when you are
disappointed at what you wish, or incur what you would avoid, you must
necessarily find fault with and blame the authors.

Be for the most part silent, or speak merely what is necessary, and in
few words. We may sparingly enter into discourse when occasion calls for
it, but not on the vulgar topics of gladiators, horse-races, feasts, and
so on; above all, not of men, so as either to blame, praise, or make
comparisons.

If anyone tells you such a person speaks ill of you, make no excuses,
but answer, "He does not know my other faults, or he would not have
mentioned only these."

When you do anything from a clear judgment that it ought to be done,
never shun the being seen to do it, even though the world should make a
wrong supposition about it. For if you do not act right, shun the action
itself; and if you do, why be afraid of mistaken censure?

When any person does ill by you, or speaks ill of you, remember that he
acts or speaks from a supposition of its being his duty. Now, it is not
possible that he should follow what appears right to you, but what
appears so to himself. Therefore, if he misjudges, he is the person
hurt, for he is the one deceived. Meekly bear, then, a person who
reviles you, for you will say upon every occasion, "It seemed so to
him."

The condition and characteristic of a vulgar person is that he never
expects either benefit or hurt from himself, but from externals. The
condition and characteristic of a philosopher is that he expects all
hurt and benefit from himself. The marks of a proficient are that he
censures no one, praises no one, blames no one, accuses no one, says
nothing concerning himself as being anybody or knowing anything; when he
is hindered or restrained, he accuses himself; when praised, he secretly
laughs; if censured, he makes no defence. He suppresses all desire;
transfers his aversion to things only which thwart the proper use of his
own will; is gentle in all exercise of his powers; and does not care if
he appears stupid and ignorant, but watches himself as an enemy, like
one in ambush.

Whatever rules of life you have deliberately proposed to yourself, abide
by them as laws, and as if it were impious to transgress them; and do
not regard what anyone says of you; for this, after all, is no concern
of yours. Let whatever appears to you to be the best be to you an
inviolable law. Socrates became perfect, improving himself in everything
by attending to reason only. And though you be not yet a Socrates, live
as one who would become a Socrates.

Upon all occasions we ought to have ready at hand these three maxims:

    Conduct me, God, and thou, O Destiny,
    Wherever your decrees have fixed my station.
    I follow cheerfully. And did I not,
    Wicked and wretched, I must follow still.

    Whoe'er yields properly to Fate is deemed
    Wise among men and knows the laws of heaven.

"O Crito, if it thus pleases the gods, thus let it be. Anytus and
Melitus may kill me indeed, but hurt my soul they cannot."

       *       *       *       *       *

FOOTNOTES



Footnote 1: The deceased speaks constantly as if he were Osiris or some
other god. This is supposed to give him the privileges and power of the
god whose name he bears.

Footnote 2: The Egyptians thought that in the lower world the heart or
conscience was weighed, _i.e.,_ judged.

Footnote 3: This chapter and the like are found on stone, wood,
porcelain, etc., figures, and attached to the mummy. It was supposed to
act magically in transferring the tasks of the underworld from the
person.

Footnote 4: The storm-god, the arch-fiend of Ra, the sun-god

Footnote 5: The suppliant has made a wax figure of Apepi, and, by
sympathetic magic, imagines that by burning it he is destroying the
power of the original. Such wax figures of the gods made for magical
purposes were generally illegal.

Footnote 6: There are many examples in the Book of the Dead of the
magical potency attached to names. To invoke a god by his name was to
control him.

Footnote 7: The ass stands for Ra, the sun-god, and the eater of the ass
is darkness or some eclipse, represented as one of the foes of Ra, in
the vignette figured as a serpent on the back of an ass. Compare the
Babylonian myth of Marduk and Tiamat.

Footnote 8: The married name of Confucius.

Footnote 9: Compare the method of Socrates in the investigation of
truth.

Footnote 10: In the above four "difficulties," note the reappearance of
the law of reciprocity, the negative form of the Golden Rule.

Footnote 11: A technical name for China, which was supposed to be
enclosed by the four great oceans of the world. China is also called
"The Middle Kingdom."

Footnote 12: That is, those who have been invested with the sacred
thread, which is a sign of having been initiated into the paternal
caste. This ceremony takes place at the age of seven or nine years, but
is only observed by the three higher castes. It is to be compared with
the Christian rites of baptism and confirmation. Hindu boys, when
invested with the sacred thread or cord, are said to be born again.

Footnote 13: This spelling of the word ("Quran") represents the native
Arabic pronunciation if it be remembered that "q" stands for a "k" sound
proceeding from the lower part of the throat. The initial sound is
therefore to be distinguished from that of the Arabic and Hebrew letters
properly transliterated "k."

Footnote 14: The pronunciation heard by the present writer among the
Muslim Arabs of Egypt, Syria, etc. The word means literally "The Praised
One" or "The One to be Praised." The "h," however, in the word is not
the ordinary one, but that pronounced at the lower part of the throat,
as the Arabic equivalent of "q" is. Hence this "h" is transliterated as
"h" with a dot underneath it.

Footnote 15: All the suras, except the ninth, begin with this formula,
as, indeed, do most Arabic books, often even books of an immoral nature.

Footnote 16: Muhammad's uncle, who, with his wife, rejected the
prophet'" claims.

Footnote 17: A word-play, Lahab meaning "flame."

Footnote 18: Said by Muslim commentators to be one of the last ten
nights of Ramadhan, the seventh of those nights reckoning backwards.

Footnote 19: The earliest mention of the doctrine of abrogation of
previous revelations. When Muhammad was convinced that what he had
previously taught was erroneous he always professed to have received a
new revelation annulling the earlier one bearing on the matter.

Footnote 20: There is perhaps here an indirect reference to the alleged
deification of the Virgin Mary by the Christians with whom Muhammad came
in contact.

Footnote 21: This is from one of the oldest suras. A most important
Muslim tradition says that Muhammad declares this sura to be equal to a
third of the rest of the Koran. Some say it represents the prophet's
creed when he entered upon his mission.

Footnote 22: This is directed against both the Mekkan belief that angels
were daughters of God and also against the Christian doctrine that Jesus
was the Son of God. Reference is also made, perhaps, to the Jewish
description of Ezra as God's son.

Footnote 23: Muhammad here adopts the Jewish and Arab myth that Solomon
had a seal with the divine name (Yahwe) inscribed on it giving him
control over winds and jinns, or demons.

Footnote 24: In Arabic, Mary and Miriam are spelt exactly alike
("Miriam"). This evidently misled Muhammad. In sura 56 he describes the
Virgin as a daughter of Amram, the father of Aaron, Moses, and Miriam.
(See Numbers xxvi. 59, and Exodus xv. 20.)

Footnote 25: This is a well-known Arab fable, based on a
misunderstanding of I Kings iv. 33, influenced by the second Targum on
Esther. See an English translation of this last in a commentary on
Esther by Paul Cassel (T. & T. Clark), p. 263. This Targum is certainly
older than the Koran, and it embodies Jewish legends of a still greater
antiquity.

Footnote 26: This legend about Mount Sinai is contained twice in the
Jewish Talmud (Abodah Zarah Mishnah II, 2, and Shabbath Gemarah
lxxxviii. 1). It is no doubt this Jewish tradition that suggested the
above passage.

Footnote 27: The point to which men turn in prayer, Zoroastrians pray
towards the east--the direction of the rising sun; Jews towards
Jerusalem, where the Temple was; and Muslims, from the utterance of this
sura, towards Mekka. At first Muhammad adopted no Qiblah. On reaching
Medinah, in order to conciliate the Jews he adopted Jerusalem as the
Qiblah. But a year after reaching Medinah, he broke with the Jews and
commanded his people to make the Kaabah their Qiblah.

Footnote 28: The cube-like building in the centre of the mosque at
Mekka, which contains the sacred black stone.

Footnote 29: Ahmad and Muhammad have both the same meaning, _i.e._, "the
Praiseworthy One." Muslim commentators hold that the Paraclete
(Comforter) promised in John xvi. 7 means Muhammad. In order to make
this clear, however, they say we ought to read "Periklutos," _i.e._,
virtually Ahmad and Muhammad, instead of "Paracletos."

Footnote 30: According to the Koran, Mary was worshipped as God by the
Christians of Arabia.

Footnote 31: According to sura 2, verse 174, the _Bismillah_ (lit. "In
the name of Allah," etc.) must be uttered before animals to be eaten are
killed.






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